


Rust Red Skies

by bakerstreetashtray



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Army AU, M/M, Military AU, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 73,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakerstreetashtray/pseuds/bakerstreetashtray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU<br/>----<br/>Jim Moriarty is a newly qualified medic, uncertain about the job and heading out to Afghanistan to be posted out with a team. NEO Team, to be specific - headed by one, Captain Sebastian Moran. Working under impossible conditions in a volatile area, inexperienced with saving lives and recovering from a troubled childhood, the attention of the Captain is the last thing on Jim's mind.</p><p>And yet, it might just become the first..</p><p> </p><p>-<br/>Inspired by BBC 'Sherlock' and 'Our Girl'.<br/>[mormorphone.tumblr.com]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alfa

The first day on the job was never going to be the easiest.

 

It was a Tuesday, which might have seemed like a bizarre day to start a new position, if Jim's Monday hadn't been spent flying hundreds of miles across the world. No, Tuesday starts were fairly regular here, and he supposed he wasn't alone. He was one of seven new medics, flown out to relieve seven others, who had more or less swapped places with them on the runway, the plane merely turning around and setting straight off back for England.

 

He'd stood in the dust with the others, squinting up at the hot sky to watch it go, until the aircraft was little more than a speck in the early morning sunshine. It was surreal, almost. Silent. Silent, and already uncomfortably, swelteringly hot.

"That's that, then." Remarked a voice to his left, a girl with a Liverpudlian accent, before she clapped him on the back, the line of medics beginning to walk towards the barracks. The words made his chest feel tight, and he leaned away from her hand a little, never one for casual touching.

Glancing back at the barren runway, it didn't quite seem real, and Jim had to force himself to stagger along behind the other medics, dragging his heavy rucksack. They were all in thick khaki uniforms, in helmets and heavy vests already, unable to go without over here, lest the Taliban take their chances with the newbies. They were a line of identicals, all padding hopelessly through the dusty wasteland towards a new life. For however long they could stand it. Jim had felt determined that he'd be one of the best, that he'd excel the way he had in his science seminars, in his medical trials - and yet.. now..

He swallowed as they approached, slightly apprehensive. Gunmen and watchtowers manned the entrance to the base, and Jim frowned. It was enormous. He'd expected something-

"Smaller?" The girl said, finishing his train of thought. She smiled at him, and Jim smiled back a little stiffly, exhausted after the flight. "I'm Gin."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "..Like the drink?"

"Exactly like the drink."

"I'm Jim."

"Hi, Jim. Jim and Gin. God.. I know what you mean.. I thought it'd be tiny."

A voice piped up ahead of them, a little scathing. "Don't be stupid. This is main base. You won't stay here." A head glanced around, one in the identical sea of seven khaki helmets. "You'll be assigned to a group, and you'll have to go with them when they're posted out."

Jim frowned, glancing at Gin.

"Posted out?"

"To the towns. That's where it'll be. They want to make sure they're letting the kids go to school. The Taliban really don't like that.."

Gin laughed, "Is that why they keep shooting the medics?"

"Well, shooting all of them. Not just medics. Think so." The other voice was curt, and Jim grimaced, lifting his bag higher on his shoulders. Great. Being shot at was exactly what he'd wanted. He rolled his eyes. It had seemed a perfect path, given his skills with the sciences and his propensity for guns and fighting. It was an uncle that had suggested it, a world war two veteran. Army medic. A doctor and a fighter. But a medicine degree later, and a one thousand hour plane journey, and..

"I'm not sure I'll enjoy this as much as I thought."

Jim's voice sounded daft even to himself, and the boy with the curt voice turned around, looking at him incredulously.

"It's too late now. They need you. You've already been assigned."

"I'm not going to run off anywhere." Jim replied a little scathingly, the boy's tone irritating him. He shrugged, and Gin laughed, pushing him.

"Don't worry about Ryan. You're not alone. We're in it together. I mean, being shot at in a desert isn't exactly how I expected my-"

"MEDICS."

The bark made Jim jump, and he stood to attention a half second later than the others, already sweating through his uniform as a man strode out before them all, black hair buzzed short to his head and his expression stony. He spoke in monotonous rhythm, and Jim tried his best to listen, though he was distracted by looking around the barracks, everything green and khaki, and covered in dust. And by how tired he was. Jesus Christ, getting on that plane in England felt like years ago..

"Welcome to Camp Bastion. Don't get comfortable, this is not your home. Today, you will meet your sections, and you will all be posted out to your new stations. They've been waiting for you all damned day. Now. I want you all to head to the medical quarters...-"

It was just so fucking dusty. How the hell did anyone ever feel clean around here? Sweaty and coated in the stuff, Jim already wanted a damn shower. God knows where those would be, this place was gigantic. They were all forced to step to one side as a jeep pulled in, coated in dust, and then a squadron of men came jogging by, the entrance not the best place for whatever this speech was.

 

"YES SIR."

The chorus around him was loud and unexpected, and the group of medics stood to attention, Jim standing dumbly, having missed whatever was said. They broke apart, all heading for a large metal fronted building near one side, and at a loss, Jim hurried after them, bag making his shoulders ache. Fuck, he needed a lay down.

"What are we doing?" He asked Ryan quietly, who gave him a scathing look.

"First rule, listen to the commander."

Gin laughed, pulling him to one side and whispering mock-conspiratorially.

"We've got to go and collect our packs. Shhhh."

"Packs?"

"Painkillers, syringes, bandages.. You know, general supplies for the medical tents." She shrugged. "Wherever we're going won't have had fresh kit since the last medics were posted out."

"Oh... right."

Gin squeezed his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"Sorry.. it's just a lot to take in."

Gin smiled sympathetically. "You'll get used to that."

"You've done this before?"

"I was a volunteer a few times. And my brother did it full time. I know what to expect."

They ducked into the medical building, gloriously air conditioned, relief hitting Jim in waves - though there was no opportunity to stop and enjoy the cool. Everything was happening so fast, and he felt dizzy. More khaki medics approached from every angle, speaking fast and loading up their arms with thick bags; black, white, grey and khaki, all marked with red crosses. Jim almost toppled over, the brisk woman loading him up giving him a disapproving look.

"So you'll need to put the black bag away immediately when you arrive, it's refrigerated but it's better in an actual fridge. You should have one in your med tent. Sutures, bandages, plasters, tourniquets.." She talked a mile a minute, ponytail swinging as she turned to find more things to load him up with, Jim getting dizzier and a touch more panicked by the moment.

"-Absolutely don't forget to lock the drawer that these are in-"  
"Store these on the top level-"  
"-Don't give these out willy nilly because you'll regret it when you don't have many left-"

Jim glanced over desperately at Gin and Ryan, who were nodding as they were loaded up, seemingly pleased with everything they were being told. Or understanding it, at least. He turned to the woman, who was mid-lecture about the importance of proper sterilisation.

"So.. so I'll be.. alone in my med tent?"

She looked at him like he was crazy.

"Well yes.. I mean, we can't afford to give more than one medic per team. And you lot will insist on getting yourselves blown up.."

Jim swallowed, his mouth dry. "..I-"

"Off you go. You're being posted."

He turned, Gin and Ryan already halfway out of the building, holding their new bags with ease. He swore internally, thanking the woman and then running after them both, arms already aching with the weight of his med bags. Gin seemed to be in the middle of a harrowing story about a field amputation, Jim trying his hardest not to listen. It was one thing being trained how to do it.. another imagining that he'd actually be good at doing it, given his skill with science and lack of squeamishness. But the idea of actually going out there.. of being tasked, alone, to save a life.

A year in Afghanistan was enough to bring a doctor out of 'Junior' status. If Jim made it home, he'd be earning double what he would be if he'd just gone straight into a British hospital.

 

If he made it home, seemed the operative phrase at the moment..

He almost walked straight into Ryan, the medics all having stopped again, a new man barking orders at them now. Before he knew what was happening, Ryan had stalked off to the left, a group of ten or so men cheering and pulling him into rough bear hugs. Oh. He'd been assigned.

 

Fine.

 

Jim was fine. He could do this.

 

Look into the eyes of the men that he was being trusted to protect and save. Anything from a blown off limb to a blister. A bad cough to a bulletwound. Jim wasn't sure he'd ever felt so ill in his life, and it took every ounce of his strength not to run for the Bastion gates. But then.. where would he go?

"Virginia Miller."

Gin gave his shoulder a squeeze and then headed off to the direction that the man with the piece of paper pointed, sweating visibly under the sun but smiling when she reached the eight or so men, and two girls. They clapped her on the shoulder, immediately taking the med bags away to hold. Jim swallowed again, fixing his eyes on the man with his piece of paper, rather than the two groups around him still waiting for their assignments.

"James Moriarty."

Jim nodded, and stepped forwards, hoping that he'd done so with confidence. He'd once hoped to be a leader. Some kind of boss, some kind of head of a department. But science seemed to lend itself well to helping people, and now he was stuck with all that damned responsibility.. Lives. Men's lives. His men. A finger pointed to the right, and a cheer went up, louder and more boisterous than the cheers so far, arms grabbing at him, pulling at the med bags, slapping him on the back and hugging him so hard that he was seeing stars, uncomfortable being so damned sweaty and dusty.

"James, Jamieeeeee, my man!"  
"Welcome to the team, J dog."  
"I'm gonna call him Jim."

"I like Jim." He managed with an attempt at a confident nod, before stepping back with pink cheeks, looking at them all. Well. They were all taller than him. Most of them the same age, a couple older. An arm fell roughly around his shoulders, the voice a Yorkshire accent.

"This is Greg, Devo, Ballbag, Jakey, Ali, Max and Skeets."

Jim nodded, those names all disappearing almost immediately. Greg had ginger hair. Devo was the same height as him. Ballbag and Jakey were both tall and dark haired, though Jakey had a sour face. Ali was Asian and very good looking, Max black with a broad smile, and Skeets one of the tallest, thinnest people he'd ever seen. He repeated them in his head, before that accent started up again.

"And I'm Dougie, that's Betsy and he's James too. But you're Jim. So that's ok."

"..Right.. right.. okay."

Dougie was walking with him now, the others all turning away to talk amongst themselves, rather excitedly.

"The captain's just sorting out the last few things now, and then we're posting out. You'll hate him, right arsehole."

"You don't like your captain?" Jim asked meekly, and a loud guffaw came from 'Betsy' - a stocky blonde man who looked less like a 'Betsy' than anyone Jim had ever seen. He'd have to get used to these fucking nicknames. James II turned to look at them, grinning.

"Don't listen to Dougie. Seb's nice."

"But don't call him that." Jakey chided, calling from the front of the group, a few more laughing and Jim frowning again. "He'll have your balls."

"Then what do I call him?"

They'd slowed in front of a building towards the back of the camp, and the men stopped as someone walked out, all standing to attention with yells of;

"CAPTAIN, SIR."

 

Bewildered, Jim dropped his bags and stood to attention too.

 

The man that had walked out was one of the most good-looking men that Jim had ever seen.

Wearing khaki trousers tucked into laced boots, he had a belt at his hips, and a white vest that hugged a toned chest and torso, damp with sweat in a couple of places. A pair of dogtags hung down, the khaki jacket that Jim and the others wore buttoned right to the neck, open and hanging off the man like a summer shirt. He was carrying a large wrapped box, and tossed it to one side, into the back of a dusty van, wearing thin bandages around the palms of his hands, most likely to prevent callouses, Jim decided. Blonde hair in need of a trim hung down slightly over his forehead, near amused green eyes that matched a smirk and a clean, stubbled jawline that could cut fucking glass.

Jim found himself gawping, and the Captain sauntered over in silence, looking down at Jim's dropped bag.

"..At ease, medic." He muttered with an arched brow, the words making Jim's ears burn. The Captain shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Tell me," He said, tilting his head teasingly at Jim."..You any good?"

Frozen, Jim nodded stiffly. That smile slid from the Captain's face, and suddenly he was breathing Jim's air, his face inches from his as he yelled.

"YOU WILL ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU, MEDIC, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

"Sir yes sir!" Jim squeaked, and then "Yes! Yes, I'm good."

He sounded weak to his own ears, resentful embarrassment burning in his stomach and the Captain stepped back, nodding once. He bent down, picking up Jim's bag. He pressed it back against his chest, and Jim took it, knocked back a step.

"For your sake, medic, you'd better be." He quipped, before turning away, all interest in Jim seemingly disappearing as quick as that. He sauntered back towards the building, calling behind him.

"N.E.E.A, fall out. Fill the tanks. We have a post to get to."

Jim's comrades all relaxed, a couple laughing and clapping him on the back again. Jim stood frozen, not sure he'd ever been more embarrassed in his life. To think, he'd thought he was good looking.

"Don't take it to heart," Devo said, though Jakey was still laughing and Ballbag and Skeets were pretending to throw their bags on the floor and stand to attention, squealing like little girls. Mocking him. Jim's cheeks burned again, and he looked away, a lump in his throat. He was too tired for this. He felt like fucking crying, which wasn't like him at all. He was the best. Always the best. Always in control.

Dougie walked over, and ruffled his hair.

"Told you he's an arsehole. Come on. You can ride up front."


	2. Bravo

'Riding up front’ turned out to be one of the front rows inside the tank that would take them to their posting, though they were forced to sit in a kind of circle, facing each other. Each man had a gun, as well as his bags, and Jim’s med bags were distributed evenly between them all, though it was a tight squeeze and fucking boiling inside the damned thing. The hatch was still open, Devo and James II talking loudly to one another over Jim’s head as he tried not to fall asleep against the side of the sank. Well. Fall asleep or pass out from the heat and exhaustion, he wasn’t exactly sure. 

“Buck up, Jimbo.” Dougie teased, taking his seat across from him, Ballbag on one side and Greg on the other. “No time for sleeping on the Neo mobile.”

“The what?” Jim asked, rubbing at his eyes, feeling like they were coated with a thin layer of dust. Betsy came to stand on the platform in the middle, sticking his head and shoulders out of the top of the tank to be on threat watch as they drove, armed with the tank gun.

“The Neo mobile.” Dougie said and grinned, not offering any explanation. The Captain chose that moment to climb inside with his bag, pulling the door shut with a clang and locking it, before planting himself down diagonally from Jim. The chatter ceased, and Jim looked away, still sheepishly angry about earlier. The Captain smiled, propping his bag between his legs and bracing his gun across his lap, nodding at the medic amusedly.

“See you’ve been putting him through his paces. He looks exhausted.”

“I’m fine.” Jim protested, and Devo ruffled his hair irritatingly, grinning.

“He’s fine, sir.”

“We were telling him about the Neo mobile, sir.”

The tank began to move with a judder, surprisingly fast. They were knocked to each side, the men barely seeming to notice.

“I wish you’d stop fucking calling it that..” The Captain muttered, and leaned back, stretching in a way that dragged Jim’s eyes to the vest clinging to his abdomen. He looked away quickly. “Neo mobile. Makes it sound like a fucking.. teleporter or something..”

“What does it mean?” Jim asked, hating that his voice sounded so timid. He cleared his throat, tasting the dust, and shrugged nonchalantly. “..Neo?”

“Battalion of the future.” Max quipped, winking at Jim, but Dougie rolled his eyes.

“It’s what we get called, usually. We’re the North East Essex-Aldershot regiment. But ‘Neea’ doesn’t really sound-“

“Sounds like a donkey.” Betsy called, voice muffled outside, and a few of the men laughed, a couple beginning to bray. Jim tried to smile, but his head had started to pound, his eyelids beginning to droop. His vest was sticking to his own chest, beneath the khaki jacket. 

“Alright, alright..” Captain said after a moment, eyes closed as he leaned back against the mesh, attempting to calm the excitable soldiers. He waved a bored hand. “Enough.”

The men were silenced just as quickly, though Devo and James continued talking over Jim’s head, Dougie turning to Skeets to play rock, paper, scissors. The Captain opened an eye after a long few minutes, finding Jim's gaze, and then leaned forwards, holding out a hand.

“Captain Sebastian Moran.”

“Jim.” He took the hand, shaking it, feeling the slight roughness of his skin, the scratch of that fabric against his palm. He relaxed a little. “So does everyone just call you..Seb?”

The Captain blinked at him, corner of his mouth quirking as a few of the others glanced around, as if disbelieving. Jim immediately sensed that he'd said the wrong thing, and opened his mouth to apologise. The Captain interrupted him and his voice was flat, a warning.

“Call me Seb in front of any of the highers, and I’ll have you for dinner, bones and all. You hear me, medic?”

Jim swallowed, his hand withering in the Captain’s as he drew it back. Dougie sniggered. Jim’s words were meek.

“..I hear you. Sorry, sir.”

Sebastian leaned back against the mesh with an amused smile, spreading his legs despite complaints from Ali and Jakey, sitting on either side of him. He closed his eyes, the tank trundling through the wilderness, and Jim sat glaring at him, embarrassed again. His life was in this man's hands. He was his boss, his superior.. And he already hated it. He was awful, so self-assured, so comfortable in his authority. He spoke again after a moment, eyes closed, stifling a yawn.

 

“Strap up my blisters and take care of my men, kid, and we’ll get along just fine.”

-

 

Jim must have fallen asleep, because when he was finally shaken awake, it was by the tank juddering to a halt, the men whooping and stamping their feet like a herd of damned elephants as they scrambled for their bags. He blinked, sitting up, his mouth like sandpaper as the Captain pulled himself up and out of the hatch, bright daylight of the late afternoon flooding the dim vehicle.

A slam of Sebastian's hand came on the metal top a moment later, voice authoritative and pleased, muffled outside.

"We're here, boys. Unpack and file in. Say hello to your new home."

"YES, CAP-TAIN."

The roar back was an enthusiastic one, and Jim was almost lost in the crush as his comrades rushed for the door, dragging bags and helmets and leaving him with his own bag and all five heavy med bags. The door wide open, he was squinting in the light, climbing out and dragging the bags to look around. He gritted his teeth at the ache in his arms, even worse now after having slept.

The air, as little breeze as there was, was welcome on his skin, sweating after spending so long inside the tank.

A set of large double gates fronted the compound, thick cinderblock walls running the perimeter, and cordoning off their particular patch of dusty desert. It was maybe one tenth of the size of Bastion - three large 'buildings' that didn't look to be made of brick, and that were all fronted by large flaps of material rather than a door. Reinforced tents, maybe. Another tent stood on one side, large and neatly erected - Jim's med tent, he assumed. One had to be the mess hall, and the other the latrine..

The roof of each was made of large slabs of corrugated metal, coated in thick brown dust and matching the khaki green of the buildings, the air around the metal hazing slightly in the blinding heat. Jim stood, transfixed for a few moments, just looking at his new home. 

The others had all thrown down their bags, running for the first tent and yelling, laughing, putting dibs on the best canvas beds. Sebastian walked past him, shedding his khaki shirt to leave him in that vest, the defined muscles of his arms slick with sweat and a deep tan. He glanced back at Jim disinterestedly, reading through a page of notes.

"You need to take those bags to the med tent. Now."

"Yes sir." Jim answered numbly, still looking around. Sebastian nodded, sauntering off towards another tent, greeting five men who appeared and shaking hands with them all. Jim stood, watching until Dougie stopped beside him, bending down to pick up the bags with a laugh.

"Come on, I'll help you. I've already bagged my bed anyway. Devo!"

Devo's head poked back out of the tent, along with Skeets and Max in various states of undress and Dougie beckoned them over.

"We got your back, Jimbo."

 

-

 

Jim was going to like the med tent, he could feel it. Everything was compartmentalized and labelled, everything perfectly ordered in the madness that was the dusty base. It was even a little cooler in here, a consequence of the positioning beside the bigger building, and a fridge for the medicines. He felt the first flickerings of relief in his stomach, having felt lost in the chaos up until now. This.. he could maybe deal with.

The boys helped him lay out the bags on the table, and then left him to it, Devo elbowing him and telling him that he'd already found him a bed. Jim smiled at the thought, and thanked him. Maybe they wouldn't be insufferably boisterous after all, he thought - only seconds before Max pulled a long string of condoms from one of the bags, whooping and screeching like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Jim rolled his eyes and shoved them away in the bag, the boys leaving him to his sorting.

 

He had it done within an hour and a half, happy with his obsessive compulsive order, everything in its proper place and adhering to all he'd been told by the medic at Bastion, though his fingers were shaking a little by the end, from exhaustion and lack of anything to eat. 

 

At long last, a hand pushed aside the tent flap, the Captain stepping inside and raising his eyebrows as he looked around at Jim's handiwork. The place was immaculately tidy, five med bags stacked neatly beneath the table, and plasters, bandages and antiseptic wipes ordered meticulously on the desk. 

"Is this where you've been all this time?" He asked curiously, and Jim nodded a touch proudly, before remembering what had happened earlier when he'd done so, and answered hurriedly.

"Yes sir. I've been here."

Sebastian smiled at him after a moment, a slow, teasing smile that was seemingly amused at his hasty recovery.

"Good work, medic." He cocked his head towards the entrance. "Come on. Food time."

 

Jim looked around, and satisfied at his work, headed out of the tent, the Captain walking beside him. The silence was a little thick, and Jim risked a glance at him, watching him unwind the bandages on his hands and then tuck them away, flexing his fingers. The fabric had left long strips of clean skin around his hands.

"Look at that," He mused, "..I'm covered in dust already."

 

"..Yes." Jim answered a little awkwardly, not sure what else he was supposed to say. They reached the mess hall, the sun beginning to set around the compound, and Jim hurried to take a seat beside Greg and James II, the Captain sitting at a separate table with the men he'd greeted earlier.

"Here he is!" Dougie exclaimed, ruffling Jim's hair again and passing down a plate of chicken, potatoes and peas, Jim craning his neck to look at the two cooks at the head of the mess hall - more a mess 'room', really - piling more chicken into a tray. 

"You've been in that tent for ages." Ali protested, stealing one of Jim's potatoes, though Dougie tried to slap his hand away. Jim shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

"I like things in order."

 

He speared a piece of chicken on his fork, and the chatter died down as he began to chew, Captain Moran standing and the others all looking over.

"Neo team."

"YES CAP-TAIN." Jim joined in this time. It actually felt quite good to say, in a team like that.

"Welcome to your new home. And your new family."

A few cheers went up, and Jim smiled in spite of himself, someone's hand ruffling his hair again.

"Over the next few weeks, we'll be patrolling the area and keeping the local townspeople safe after reports of Taliban activity. We're going to get the kids to school, and we're going to be watching the daily market. I'd like to introduce you all to a few of the men here with us today - working for the Afghan interest on our side. This is Hamza, Toufique, Adeeb and Ashan. The cooks, Ashiana and Mohammed."

Each man stood briefly, and then sat down, the two cooks waving shyly from behind a pot, and a few of the comrades nodding in response. 

"..The men on the gates at the moment are Afghan security, and they will swap with you when we aren't on patrols or missions. You'll keep them safe like your own brothers. In fact, that goes for everyone here. Understood?"

"YES CAP-TAIN."

 

"Tomorrow we'll take our first trip into the village, just before noon.I want you all up at six AM. Is that understood?"

"YES CAP-TAIN."

 

He gestured next at Jim, who blushed beetroot, swearing internally when the Captain beckoned at him slowly, a smile on his face. He cleared his throat and stood, walking over, Sebastian putting an arm around his shoulders.

"This is your new medic, who I'm sure you've all met. Say 'hello', medic."

Jim glanced at the Captain a little amusedly, and held up a hand.

"Hello."

"He'll be your first port of call for anything to do with bodies. Fuck me, I do not want to know about your green toes or itchy balls."

A few laughs went up, a few disgusted faces. Jim smiled again ruefully, and Sebastian clapped him on the back, motioning for him to return to his seat.

"So enjoy the first night, lads. Get settled. Tomorrow, it starts."

The Captain sat down, his speech rewarded with the banging of hands on tables, plastic forks against plastic glasses. Jim's potatoes had been stolen in his absence, and he spooned peas onto his fork, grinning with his comrades. This wasn't half bad, after all. It wasn't the worst thing in the world..

Tomorrow, it started. 

 

He could do this.

Yeah. 

 

Of course he could.


	3. Charlie

He could not do this.

 

That was Jim's first thought when his bed was shaken violently, Jakey yelling in his face that it was time to get up, Dougie and Devo already half dressed and Max rushing around naked through the tent, a toothbrush in his mouth. It was still dark outside, and the others were grumbling as they threw themselves out of bed, getting dressed in full uniform. When Jim sat up, he gasped at the ache in his shoulders from yesterday. Forced into action, he winced as he dragged himself from the canvas, rubbing at his eyes and trying to get dressed hurriedly while the attention was away from him.

"Nice to see, medic." Came a familiar jeer from the doorway when he had his underwear around his ankles, bare arse to the front of the tent, and hurriedly tugging on fresh pants and his khaki uniform trousers. Jim swore, hurriedly trying to cover himself, the Captain fully dressed himself as he stood grinning, the men all pausing in various states of undress to yell "CAP-TAIN, SIR."

"At ease, boys." Sebastian called, Jim still facing away, his face bright red as his fingers fumbled on his trouser buttons, before pulling on the vest and khaki jacket. He felt mortified, and furious with it, so out of his depth here that it was hard to recall how on earth he'd thought that this might actually be okay, last night.

"I said six AM."  
The Captain's voice was suddenly by his ear, and Jim jumped out of his damn skin, almost falling over his feet as he tugged down his jacket, breathless.

"Yes Captain."

"Does it look like six AM to you?" Sebastian's voice was low, taunting him with authority. Jim squinted into the darkness.

"I.. don't know, sir."

"It's six ten, medic."

"Yes sir."

"Are you ready, medic?"

"Yes sir."

The Captain looked down at him, his feet still bare.

 

"I said; Are you ready, medic?"

"I just need to put my shoes-"

"ARE YOU READY, MEDIC?" That yell in his face again, and Jim was swallowing, fixing his gaze on his toes.

"No sir."

"You'll run two more laps."

Jim had to keep his mouth from falling open in his outrage, the punishment unjust. The other men were in various states of undress and disarray, and yet none of them had been punished. Only last night, Sebastian had been joking with him about his dusty hands, had brought him up in front of everyone to introduce him - and now he was being a.. being a.. total arsehole.

"Yes sir." He said quietly, and the Captain stalked back to the doorway, Jim watching him and noting that he was fully dressed today, though no amount of khaki could hide those green eyes, or the way the thick fabric hugged his torso.

"The rest of you, get yourselves together and out, now. I'm not your fucking schoolteacher."

He swept out of the tent, followed by the chant of "YES CAP-TAIN."

 

-

When the Captain had gone, James II turned to Jim and grimaced, patting him on the back.

 

"Don't worry. He wants to prove that he's not going to be soft on you, just because you're a medic."

 

Jim's face was hot, and he nodded stiffly. He shrugged James II off, and finished pulling on his socks and lacing his boots in silence, Dougie walking over a few moments later to help him up.

"I hate him." He muttered quietly, and beside them, Devo stiffened, looking back at Jim.

"Don't say that." He snapped sharply, and Jim blinked, Dougie frowning.

"What's your problem, Devo?"

"He doesn't know Seb. He doesn't know shit."

"Man, calm down." Skeets said, tugging Devo away, Devo's lips pursed flat together. He turned angrily, pushed Skeets away, and then stalked from the tent, Jim staring a little blankly after them.

"..What.. was that about?"

"Fuck if I know." Dougie muttered, and then nudged Jim. "Come on. Laps time."

 

-

 

"I know why."

Skeets' words were breathless as he joined them, twenty minutes into the jog around the compound. It was the thirtieth lap, and Jim was dying, the belt and trousers heavy even if he wasn't running with armour, a jacket or his bag, like they had during training. But then training hadn't been in one thousand degree heat. He was covered in sweat, panting, his vest stuck to his chest and his lungs on fire, no amount of training able to prepare him for this. The Captain ran at the front of the line, which Dougie had told him was actually rare - usually they just stood off to one side, and barked orders. As far as Jim could see, Sebastian hadn't even broken a sweat, those dog tags bouncing against a toned chest beneath that vest. He hated him even fucking more.

"What?" He gasped at Skeets, Dougie glancing over at him too as he fell in step with them both. Neither of them seemed to be suffering as much as he did, Jim noted glumly.

"I know why.. Devo got.. all pissed at you.." Skeets answered, his words fractured by their feet hitting the dusty ground. "Seb saved.. his brother's life.. last.. tour.."

"..He saved his life?" Jim asked a little surprisedly, though the words came out as a jumble of breaths, skipping a step as he tried to keep up. Skeets laughed, and Dougie grinned.

"Can't keep up, medic?"

"..Fuck.. off.."

"..Yeah.." Skeets went on as they rounded a corner, beginning to make for the gates. "..He lost a.. leg.. apparently."

"..Damn.."

They'd slowed down a little, Jakey, Ali and Ballbag overtaking them. Devo ran at the front, just behind the Captain.

"..Yeah.. Captain dragged him.. back.. to the medic.. medic.. saved his life.."

Jim felt a shard of ice in his chest, fear at the thought that he'd be doing just that. Saving lives. Brothers, sons, fathers.. He sped up, Dougie and Skeets gaining pace, and they took over the three in front again, though he was beginning to feel more leaden by the second. Sick. The past twenty minutes were beginning to hit home, and he was gasping for breath, forcing himself forwards, already hitting the peak of his damned limits.

 

_Oh no you don't. Not yet. Push harder._

"...You ok Jimbo?"

"Fine."

_You are not a failure._

 

He'd begun to see black spots, his fingers and toes suddenly cold, and Dougie's voice sounding impossibly distant in his head. He continued to push on, muscles burning and aching, his breathing erratic and bursting from him in pained gasps.

_You are a leader. Do not give up. Do not stop._

His heart began to thud, and then all of a sudden his trembling legs finally gave out, and everything was black.

_God fucking damn it motherfucker.._

"You sure? Woah - Jim-"

-

 

Jim awoke when cold water was splashed into his face, rasping and sitting up on the dusty floor, the concerned faces of his comrades looking down at him as his head pounded, uncertain about what had happened. A moment later and he was being pulled to his feet, Sebastian's fingers hard around his arm, before he turned him to himself, looking him square in the face.

"You alright, medic?"

 

His words were stern but concerned, green eyes searching Jim's own, and he swallowed, his throat dry.

"Yes sir." He tried confidently, but rasped, and the Captain pressed a canteen against his chest, Jim taking it and drinking gratefully. Sebastian watched him, frowning for a moment, before turning to the other men. "Well? Why have you stopped?"

After a brief, blank pause, the men stuttered into action with a "YES CAP-TAIN." and shot off towards the other end of the compound, leaving Jim to watch them morosely, Sebastian's hands still on his shoulders. He looked down sheepishly, ashamedly at the dust, waiting for his reprimanding, but the Captain merely squeezed his arms.

"Don't be too hard on yourself." He said quietly, and gave a small smile, something in Jim's chest flipping over at the sight, blinking in slight disbelief. "It takes a while to get used to the heat."

He held Jim's gaze for a moment longer, and then dropped his hands from his arms, Jim realising that he hadn't answered. He did, quickly.

"..Thank you, sir. I'll.. should I..?" He gestured to the men, almost having run another lap of the compound, soon to be back beside them for Jim to rejoin.

The Captain shook his head. "No. I want you to rest up. Go and drink some more. Go and pack one of the med bags. We'll be going on our first patrol today."

"I can do it, sir." Jim protested quietly, cheeks burning shamefully at being benched when the others were still enduring the torture. Sebastian merely arched an eyebrow at him.

"I'm sure you can. But not today, medic. Off you go."

Jim didn't move for a moment, and the slight smile fell from the Captain's lips.. the sight scary enough to prompt Jim's shameful scurry to the showers.


	4. Delta

Jim felt that shame burn in his cheeks throughout his shower, annoyed at the Captain, though that could have gone so much worse. He'd expected to be yelled at, not treated with kindness, and somehow that made it worse that he wasn't able to keep up with his comrades. The Captain's smile had made him weak at the knees as well, the type of crooked grin that didn't belong on such a perfect face, halfway to a smirk. 

He didn't know what was bloody wrong with him. Usually he was fairly good at reading people, but Sebastian's personality was impossible. One moment, he was friendly, the next a hard and unwavering Captain. 

When he was finished in the shower, the water was running brown with the dust, though Jim's aching shoulders felt fractionally better, and he felt a little less stressed, having released some tension with a hand on himself. Well, better now when he was in the shower alone than when the other men were in here. Communal showers were just another disadvantage of the job and a little glumly, Jim wondered when he'd next be able to shower with so much peace. Of course, it didn't escape his attention that Sebastian would also have to shower at some point, and the thought was just enough to lift his spirits. He wondered whether he ought to be confused. He both hated the man, and looked forward to seeing him. Respected him, but found him abhorrent. He supposed he must be a good man, if he'd saved Devo's brother's life. 

 

Jim dressed carefully, unhappy to be putting on the same dusty uniform and wondering how they went about getting those washed. He laced his boots, and then filled his canteen from the tap before heading out, walking across the compound towards his med tent. The boys had just stopped running, a few of them leaning against the walls to get their breath back, and Jim stood to watch for a moment, telling himself that it was because Ali looked like he might pass out. Definitely not because the Captain was mopping at his brow with the bottom of that vest, exposing a muscled stomach to the open air.

Green eyes glanced his way, and the Captain arched an eyebrow. Jim swore, and scuttled into the med tent. He thought he could hear him laughing, the voices dying away into the distance as his comrades went for their own showers. Pursing his lips against a smile, Jim began to pack a med bag for the day.

 

-

 

Bandages, tourniquets, paracetamols, emergency water bottles, glucose packets, scissors, plasters, antiseptic liquid and hydrogen peroxide bottles. Needle and suture thread.. latex gloves.. an epi-pen for Max' nut allergy. Was that all he needed? Jim hoped so, because he couldn't think of anything else. Hell, if he needed anything more, it'd be a case for the air ambulance anyway, the helicopter that would come to airlift the injured squaddie back to the huge team at Bastion. 

He zipped the bag and fixed it onto his shoulders, a little relieved that the weight was less than yesterday. He'd have a gun of course, but this was manageable. The last thing he needed was worrying about passing out in the middle of a town market in Afghanistan.

He was just leaving the tent when Dougie swept in, tossing him an apple.

"Come on. You have to get breakfast before we go."

"I'm not really that hungry."

"Captain's orders."

Well, that settled it then. Jim sighed, heading back to the mess hall with him and taking the same seat at the table that he had last night. Their Afghan brothers weren't in here, it was just the men, and so Sebastian sat at their table, a plateful of bacon and sausage in front of him. The men were in a rousing debate about football teams back in the UK, and Jim ate in silence, happy to listen but having less than nothing to contribute. He hated football, had never played it and certainly never watched it of his own free will.

 

He helped himself to scrambled eggs on toast and ate quietly, Devo flashing him an apologetic smile after a while. Jim smiled back, a little pleased that he seemed to have come round. He was halfway through his first slice of toast when Jakey slid a cup of tea over to him.

"I put like ten sugars in there." He told him, and Jim laughed, scooping more eggs onto his fork.

"I'm not going to pass out again."

"Are you sure?"

Dougie rolled his eyes. "It was just the heat. He'll be fine."

"Well that, and the fact that I'm hideously unfit." Jim added hastily, before anyone else could. A couple of the others laughed, and the Captain glanced over, having finished his discussion on West Ham FC with Ballbag. 

"You made the same amount of laps as these idiots." He pointed out to Jim's surprise, taking a sip of a coffee. "Don't sell yourself short, medic."

"Yeah, he started two laps before us." Dougie pointed out, and Jakey shrugged. Jim gave a small smile, nibbling at his toast.

"Just drink the tea."

"That's not even the best thing for it." Jim laughed, though took a sip gratefully. He met a few bemused sets of eyes, one pair of them green, though he was trying fairly hard not to focus on those ones. He blinked at them all, as if explaining the obvious. "..I'd just have a sugar crash later. It wouldn't help long term."

He was met with silence, and then the Captain nodded at him.

"And this is why he's the medic, rather than any of you idiots."

"Oi! I knew that!" Ali protested, and Dougie laughed.

"The hell you did. Seb's right. You'd all be shit medics."

Jim noticed that the Captain didn't chide him for calling him Seb, grinning as he listened, chewing his bacon. Skeets piped up.

"Dougie, you'd be the fuckin' worst. Didn't you try-"

"We don't need to go into that."

Jim raised his eyebrows, smiling. "What? What did he try and do?"

"No, Skeets."

"Oh come on, tell me."

Skeets grinned. 

"I told him he could fix his blisters with butter."

Jim grimaced. "Butter?"

"Shut up, I thought he was being serious! It sounded like it could work."

"Fucking hell." Sebastian muttered, and the others laughed again, pounding hands on the table, Dougie scowling.

"Petition for a new nickname for Dougs? Butter boy? Butter balls.."

"I Can't Believe It's Not Blisters."

"Cloverfeet."

"Footerly Butterly."

"Fuck you guys." Dougie muttered, and Jim laughed, watching Skeets lean over and mess up his friend's hair. "It was one time."

"Just come to me next time." Jim mused, and took another bite of his toast, feeling.. better, again. He seemed to, when with the team. It was only when he was alone or under the Captain's scrutiny that he couldn't quite manage things. Hell, maybe that summed him up completely. 

"Medic," The Captain asked after a few minutes, setting down his knife and fork. "You get the med bag ready?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright. Finish up, lads. Time to get real."

Conversations around the table became quieter, the men hurrying to finish their breakfasts, and Sebastian stood, heading for the doorway, blonde hair still wet from his shower. 

"Skeets? You, Max and.. Cloverfeet.. can come and help me plan a route."

The room erupted into laughter at the use of Dougie's new nickname, and the four filed out, Jim grinning rather unexpectedly. This day had potential after all.

 

-

 

 

Ten minutes later, and they were back in the tank, Jim's med bag between his knees and a kind of silently buzzing excitement running through the team. They all wore their khaki helmets, fully suited and booted, and Jim for one was rather nervous for his first patrol. Suppose something terrible happened?

It was possible. One of the men could fall, they could hit a mine in the road, they could be attacked by Taliban fighters..

"Medic."

The Captain's voice was wry, and Jim's cheeks immediately reddened, looking out under his helmet at Sebastian. He spoke before he could give him a 'yes sir'.

"You look like you're about to run out of here screaming. Calm down." Jim nodded sheepishly, before remembering.

"Yes sir."

"You too, Greg."

The ginger boy sitting beside Jim had shaking fingers, hadn't said a word during breakfast and even now, uttered a tiny 'Yes sir'. Jim watched him anxiously for a moment, having been sure that it was his second tour. Well.. maybe that was the problem. Maybe he'd seen something terrible. Maybe it was PTSD, and he was about to have an attack..

"Medic."

Sebastian's wry voice was another warning, and Jim nodded, sitting up straighter. He couldn't afford to keep showing his fear in his face. 

Come on. You're stronger than this. 

"Sorry, sir."

-

 

When they arrived, Sebastian held up a hand before they could get out, leaning forwards with his gun across his knees. A concentrated silence fell across the team, a few of the boys - Jim included - leaning in to listen.

 

"We're going to start at the school, and make our way through the town to the market, which I'm told is only one road. If you see children, you ask why they aren't at school. If you see anything untoward, let me know. We're just here to keep the peace. You stay calm, you stay alert, and you stay alive."

He was met with sharp nods, a couple of frightened faces. The Captain sighed, and then rolled his eyes, raising his voice.

"Is that clear, Neo team?"

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"Fall out."

The door opened, and this time they made their way out with solemn concentration, looking around themselves at the bright sunlight, the dusty landscape suddenly dotted with buildings - crumbling houses with dusty washing hanging out front, homes made from that corrugated metal, looking like they might fall down at any moment. There was the sound of music far off, recorded Pashto singing, and a mangy dog limped around the side of a bigger, sturdier looking building, though even that only had holes for windows.

Jim lifted his gun, walking hesitantly behind the other men, Sebastian leading them towards the building. Undoubtedly the school, from the chalk drawings in the dust outside, drawings pinned to a piece of string and fluttering in those glassless windows. 

"It's like a ghost town.." James II whispered, walking alongside Jim, who frowned, spotting a face in one of those houses, before the person quickly hid themselves away again. 

"I don't like it." Sebastian said firmly, "...It's well within school hours."

He waved a hand curtly, gesturing for them to follow him inside, Devo cutting in front of him to check for gunmen before nodding, the Captain stepping inside the school. Jim followed, feeling uneasy about this whole thing. When they reached the main hall, a woman in a full burqa appeared, pausing at the sight of them and then hurrying into a side room, the Captain nodding at them to follow.

They stepped inside, the room dim and thin sheets shading the windows, a group of young boys and only two girls - no older than seven or eight years old - looking up at them with frightened eyes. Sebastian frowned, turning to one of the women, both sitting by a blackboard and watching them uneasily.

"Where are the others?" He asked, gently and clearly, gesturing to the children. "There are not many here. This school serves the whole town."

The womn looked at each other for a moment, talking in quiet urgency to one another in Pashto, before looking back at the Captain and his team.

"The Taliban. They come and they warn not to go to school. They tell men not to send the girls. And the boys only sometimes will come."

Jim frowned at the children, crammed into this tiny room, being taught in secret. Sebastian shook his head.

"The children will go to school." He stated. "All the children. Starting tomorrow. We will be here, and we will ensure it."

The two women exchanged long looks, and then the woman spoke again, voice afraid.

"..The Taliban. They will come."

"So let them." Sebastian's words were bold, and a few of the men nodded along, exchanging looks of their own. "We're here now."

Nervous Greg bent down, passing a pen out of his pocket to one of the little boys, who took it with as much shy excitement as if he'd just been gifted a PlayStation, or a gold block. 

"Thank you." He said after a moment, voice a quiet squeak, and Greg smiled, standing back up again. Sebastian, watching the exchange, turned back to the women.

"Tomorrow." He told them firmly, and the women nodded, wringing their hands but dancing around a little, seemingly both pleased and anxious about the news. 

"Yes. Yes. Tomorrow."

-

 

They made their way back out of the deserted school, the Captain waiting at the door until each and every one of them had filed out, Dougie shaking his head.

"Fucking hell, imagine not even being allowed to go to school.."

"I wish I hadn't been allowed to go to school." Max quipped, and a few of the others laughed, Sebastian rounding on him.

"You think it's funny, Max?" He growled, "That these kids have no future, no life ahead of them except to be sucked into a corrupt regime? Do you? Does that really fucking toot your horn?"

"No sir, I just meant-"

"I don't give a fuck what you meant, keep your opinions to yourself."

"Yes sir."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"YES CAP-TAIN, SIR."

Sebastian stalked off, swinging his gun back around to his front. 

"This way." He ordered, his shoulders tight. "You jokers can walk at the back."

The men fell into an uneven line, Jim ending up near the front whilst Max, Skeets and Dougie stayed near the back, obviously keen to avoid Sebastian's mood. They were headed down the dusty road towards the markets, all eyes on the terrain around them, scouting for threats. Jim watched the Captain, feeling the tension ripple off him in waves, and after a moment, he spoke, the words a low warning.

"I can feel your eyes on me Jim."

Jim hurriedly looked away, and cleared his throat, not saying anything. They walked in silence for a few more moments, before he piped up, trying to lighten the mood.

"You called me Jim."

The Captain glanced back at him in apparent disinterest, the words disgruntled. "That's your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. I mean.. you didn't call me 'medic'."

 

He was met with silence, Sebastian turning away again and continuing to lead the group. Jim could hear the men at the back talking as they covered them, it sounded like a conversation on their school days. From what Jim could hear, Max had dropped out, Dougie had gone on to sixth form and Skeets had left school to train up as an electrician, at first. The other men began to chip in, telling the others a bit about themselves - Jakey had worked for three years in an office before deciding he wanted to join the army. Ali had been talked into his by his father, and James II had been a bit of a bad boy, enlisting to try and straighten himself out. Ballbag and Greg had just started in on their own stories when Sebastian called for quiet, his voice short and harsh. A brooding silence followed.

After a long while, a long and incredibly awkward silence, the talking started up again, quieter now, and hesitant. The Captain allowed it, and after a few moments, Jim spoke quietly to him, trying not to get his head bitten off.

"Are you okay, sir?"

Sebastian glanced back at him again, and Jim shifted his gun in his arms a touch nervously. 

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason, sir."

They fell into silence again, and then a few moments later, the Captain gave a resigned sigh. 

"It's my fourth tour," He began, "And this happens every damn year. Every tour. I was briefed on this town yesterday, and I was told without a doubt that the children were attending school."

"Do you think they were lying?" Jim asked, dropping the 'sir' accidentally, though Sebastian didn't seem to notice. 

"No, I don't." He explained in a near mutter. "I think the bastards move in as soon as we move out, and undo all our good work. There can be months between new post outs here. Makes me wonder about all my old posts. Are the kids still going to school there, or is it the same? Is all this for no fucking reason at all?"

Jim fell silent, supposing that he was able to understand Sebastian's stress. To think that a post, that all that hard work, maybe even dead or injured friends, had been for nothing. That things returned to the same dismal chaos after they'd gone. 

"It might be different this time." He suggested hopefully, and Sebastian huffed a scoff of a laugh. A moment later, he glanced back at Jim again, half smile on his face.

"Optimism. I like that. Keep hold of that, medic."

"You can call me Jim, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

-

 

The market was in full swing by the time they arrived, rickety stalls packed together, selling everything from meat or live animals to seeds, shawls, shoes and household items. All eyes were on them as they made their way through the thin crowd, people pausing in mid sentence to stare at them, the occasional man glaring and pushing his wife behind himself, or barking at children that then ran inside. Children that were supposed to be at school, undoubtedly.

They received a few nods or tentative smiles, but the reception was, for the most part, frosty. Jim frowned, sticking close to his comrades, clutching his gun tightly and looking for anything that struck him as off. 

"..I don't think they like us.." Betsy whispered to Jim, who frowned as two men began pushing each other, fighting angrily over something on a market stall - before spotting them and falling silent as they stared.

"I'll say."

"Think the last lot caused them trouble?" Betsy asked, but Sebastian glanced back at him, the look harsh enough to silence him.

"The last lot got the kids to school, girls too, which is more than we've done so far. Stop fucking gossiping and get on with your work. Medic, get up here."

Jim swallowed, jogging ahead a little to stand by the Captain as they turned onto a new street, and then another, the stalls few and far between and a child hiding beneath one of them. "Yes sir?"

Sebastian didn't say anything, and they turned down an alleyway, heading through to the main group of houses, eyes peering out at them from behind thin drapes, or crumbling walls. 

"..You wanted me, sir?" Jim prompted again, and the Captain shrugged.

"You're the only one who isn't pissing me the fuck off today."

"..Oh."


	5. Echo

After their patrol of the market, questioning a few parents on their children and exploring a few dilapidated old houses that the Captain had been informed were ex-Taliban, they'd headed back to base, everyone sweaty and in need of water and rest after the long hours in the sun. The ride back in the tank hadn't helped, the tension still thick after Sebastian's telling off earlier in the day, and nobody had spoken until they'd gotten back. To save water, it was only one shower per day, though Jim craved to wash his skin after the day in the heat in his uniform, the other men seeming unfussed about the layer of grime atop their skin.

 

The men had spent the last hour before dinner in the tent, napping or reading, laying on their canvas beds and staying out of the Captain's way. Sebastian had retired to his own tent without a word, and when dinner finally came, had already been and gone by the time they'd filed into the mess hall. Jim couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at that. It had been.. nice today, talking to him properly without being scared of a bollocking. 

 

The others obviously didn't agree, Dougie muttering about him being an arsehole and Max agreeing vehemently throughout dinner, despite Devo's dagger looks. Jim remained silent, not wanting to comment. If he was honest, he understood the Captain's aggravation. 

 

After dinner, he left alone to head to the med tent and unpack the bag, rather thankful that he hadn't had to use it, and grateful for the cool silence. He ordered his things, putting them away carefully and then helping himself to some cool water from the fridge. A thought struck him, and he decided to take a bottle over to the Captain's tent, knocking cautiously on a plinth outside before he entered. 

"I brought you some..."

Sebastian lay on the bed, eyes closed, wearing just his trousers rolled up to his knees, half curled in on himself like a child. The tent was small, but spacious - a chart on one side with a whiteboard and a map of the town, along with pictures of all of them. It was quiet in here, calm, and for a bizarre moment, Jim wished that he could lay down on the bed too. A private space, away from his team tent - communal sleeping and rhinoceros snoring. His eyes settled on his sleeping Captain, so vulnerable in sleep compared to his terrifying authority, his short temper when awake. 

He looked again at the charts on the wall, the map that had been drawn afresh, old scribbles underneath hastily scrubbed away. The faces of his comrades. If Jim thought he had a lot of responsibility, the Captain's didn't even.. compute. No wonder he was sharp with them all. Jim picked up his canteen, bone dry, and filled it with the fresh, cool water, before screwing on the lid and setting it on the makeshift cardboard box of a table beside his Captain's bed. 

And then he left him to his sleep, returning to the boys.

 

-

 

Jim was asleep by 9pm, as were most of the boys, utterly exhausted by the patrol, and that killer run in the morning. After dinner, he'd sat reading a book in bed, listening to the others outside laughing and joking and cussing at one another, occasionally coming inside to try and get him out of bed. Jim appreciated the thought. It was bizarre, to feel this close to a group already after only a day with them. 

 

He'd never felt like that in school. Much less in University.

 

-

 

Jim woke at 6 am, Dougie shaking him by the shoulder - and this time didn't question it. He was out of bed with a wince, dressing quickly; trousers, vest, socks, boots, and then heading outside, and almost walking straight into the Captain when he did so. He arched an eyebrow at him amusedly, seemingly in a better mood than yesterday.

"Well well, medic. First one up." He mused, and Jim shrugged with a smile. He could hear the other men inside the tent, still hopping around and grumbling, readying themselves for the day, Devo the first to follow him out.

"CAP-TAIN, SIR." He said, standing to attention, the call immediately mirrored by the men inside the tent, Sebastian rolling his eyes.

"At ease, boys. Hurry up. Medic's putting you to shame."

Devo nodded, jogging away and then pausing to stretch, the men filing out of the tent one by one, and jogging over to join him. Jim was about to follow, when the Captain rested a hand on the centre of his back, Jim stilling at the touch, and glancing at him.

"..Thanks for the water." He murmured, voice conspiratorial and gaze amused. For a moment, Jim considered denying it, not sure how the hell he could know - before nodding meekly and then forcing himself to speak.

"..Welcome, sir."

Then he hurried over to the others, heart skittering a little, that space on his back seeming to burn.

 

-

 

The run was as agonising as the day before, but somehow wasn't enough to steal his consciousness again, and by the end, though he was wheezing, his legs aching and his lungs on fire, Jim felt.. accomplished. Proud of himself, laughing when the boys slapped him on the back, Ali lifting him into the air. He hoped he'd get better though, the feeling that he was about to pass out staying with him for almost ten minutes after the run had finished - though Sebastian had him and the others do another lap just walking to cool down.

 

When they reached the shower tent, Jim felt a slight shyness, uneasiness settle in his chest as the others began to shed their clothes before they'd even stepped inside, baring pale chests or freckly skin, thick tan lines and muscled arms. Bare arses swaggered inside before him, and Jim stood in full uniform, desperately not wanting to shower communally. The boys didn't seem to notice in their eagerness to feel cool water, leaving Jim standing outside a little panickedly, not sure how this could work. 

 

Maybe he could just hide away, pretend he was sorting the med bag for today and then shower in the dead of night.. or during dinner. He'd stink for the rest of the day, but surely that was better than everyone seeing him. He was mortified at the idea, backing away from the tent - when he bumped into something, turning around to be faced with Sebastian, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Not going in, medic?"

"..I've actually got a lot to do." Jim fluffed, fixing his eyes on the med tent, though Sebastian shook his head at him slowly, before nodding back towards the showers. 

"It's perfectly natural, what you're feeling. Nobody likes it. We all have to deal with it."

"I don't know what you mean, sir."

"Showering with the other men. I get it. It's embarrassing."

"I'm a medic, sir." Jim said, his cheeks pink, words an attempt at amused confidence. "..I think I can handle a few bodies."

"Alright." Sebastian shrugged. "Go on then."

Jim felt that panic rise in his throat, and the Captain watched him for a moment, before slipping a hand to the nape of his own neck, and pulling off that white vest, revealing a torso that wouldn't be out of place on a damned Times Square billboard. Jim very purposely looked away, his ears warm, and the Captain watched him coolly, beginning on his belt.

"..You don't look like you're going." He commented after a moment, and Jim looked back towards the shower tent, hearing that clank as Sebastian's trousers and belt fell to his ankles. Determined not to turn around, he heard Sebastian's quiet laugh before he stepped past him, flashing Jim a muscular back and white arse as he sauntered into the showers ahead of him, Jim gawping at him for longer than was probably decent. 

"Coming, medic?" He called back, stepping into a cubicle and giving Jim a flash of something that made him swear internally, before he was hurriedly losing his own clothes and hurrying into the tent, hands over himself.

-

 

The shower was the most paranoid one Jim had ever had in his life, facing the wall as he washed himself at the speed of light, scrubbing away the grime and sweat. He was in the cubicle beside Sebastian, if it could even be called a cubicle - a short tiled wall parted them from one another, and Sebastian whistled as he washed himself, a smirk on his face whenever Jim dared glance over at him. The walls were so short that he could see most of the Captain's torso anyway, and for a moment he gawped at him, noticing scars that he hadn't seen a few moments ago. 

When the Captain caught him looking, he stood still, green eyes fixed on Jim as if daring him to say something. Jim didn't, quickly turning back towards his corner, and shutting off the tap. He left the shower with Dougie and Ballbag, the two of them stark bollock naked without a care in the world, only Jim seeming to care about remembering his towel. 

His heart was still thumping when he reached the tent, dressing quickly in his one spare uniform, before hurrying back to the shower block to collect his dirty clothes from before. As he did, Sebastian chose that moment to step out of the shower, patting his face dry with a long towel that hung down to cover his crotch. But only just. 

"There." He said, grinning when he saw Jim, and flashing a wink. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

 

-

 

It took Jim a rather long time to recover from that, and he still couldn't look Sebastian in the eye when they were in the tank, on their way to the town. He kept catching the Captain glancing at him, and each time he caught his eye, he smirked a little before looking away, Jim's ears red as he fiddled with a tie on his med bag. Jakey was in the middle of a story from one of his comrades on a past tour, talking about a raid on a Taliban house, how the team had rescued three young girls and gotten them patched up and back in school, though they'd lost a friend in the process. Jim listened solemnly with the others, surprised that Sebastian didn't shut them up.. though he supposed that maybe he thought that it was good for the others to hear. The reality of it all, the seriousness. Beyond all the jokes and nicknames.

"You're quiet, Jimbo." Dougie said after a while, when the solemness of the story had passed. He smiled, shrugging.

"Am I?"

"Not everyone is as loud as you, butter balls." Skeets quipped, and Dougie punched him in the shoulder, Jim laughing quietly. They pulled up again, the tank juddering to a halt, and Sebastian spoke, straightening his helmet.

"Alright. So the townspeople are scared, but we've given them a chance. These kids need to get to school and if they're not there today, we're going to go and fetch them. And we'll maintain a guard around the school, a patrol around the town while they're there, if they're that scared. But these kids need to learn. It's the only damned chance they've got. Understood, Neo team?"

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"Fall out."

 

-

 

To Jim's pleasant surprise, they didn't need to storm the town to get the children to go to school. That same abandoned building was full of excited little voices, young children eager to learn, sitting cross legged on the floor with paper and pencils, or outside with their teachers, drawing math sums in the dust. 

 

They patrolled the paths around the school for the majority of the day, and whenever Jim glanced at the Captain, he was grinning. The others seemed to be in high spirits too, laughing and joking, the children running up to them at breaktimes with pictures that they'd drawn, or a few words of English that they'd learned. Jim was suddenly understanding Sebastian's passion, his desire to keep the town running, these children safe and.. normal. 

 

"Hello. Hello? Medicine? Doctor!"

It was halfway through the day when Jim heard those words, one of the women running from the school with a little girl in her arms, floppy in her dusty dress. Jim glanced at the Captain, who gave him a curt nod, and then he was running to meet her, bending down to kneel in the dust as the woman laid the girl down. 

"What happened?" He asked as calmly and clearly as he could, taking his med bag from his shoulder. 

"She fall." The woman explained, "She is.." She fumbled for a minute for the right word to explain, drawing circles over her own head. "..Diz-zy?"

Jim slipped a hand beneath the girl's head, only about six or seven years old, tipping some water into her mouth and noting at the same time that she was absolutely.. covered.. in bruises. It couldn't possibly be from just a fall, and he met the teacher's eyes, the look there confirming his thought.

"Her parents." He said, and after a long moment, the woman nodded.

"Her mother." She said quietly, "She is good woman. It is the man. He does not want her to go to school. He want to promise her away."

"That's out of the question." The words came from Sebastian, who had been standing behind Jim, watching him lift the little girl into his arms as she began to wake, immediately beginning to cry feebly.

"Hey.." Jim said, "Don't worry. It's okay. Hello." He waggled his fingers at her, the girl quickly hurrying back into her teacher's arms. "My name is Jim."

She hid her face in her teacher's burqa, and Jim passed over a cold bottle of water, still wincing at the sight of those bruises. 

"..Can I treat her?" He asked quietly, and the teacher shook her head after a moment, hesitant.

"Her father. He would not like it."

"Please? Just a.. salve.."

"Jim." Sebastian's voice was a touch gentler. "..Don't get involved. Come on. She was just dehydrated."

Jim continued holding out a hand, the little girl finally reaching out and shaking it, before hiding again, Jim smiling faintly. He stood, feeling unhappy that he couldn't do more. She wasn't just dehydrated. She was suffering at the hands of her father. He couldn't stand it. 

 

His own father had been free with his fists, too.

"Can I..?" He said, bending down a little, and passing a pen out of his uniform. The little girl reached out shyly, and took it with a little smile, Jim smiling in return.

"Medic." The Captain prompted, and Jim stepped away, the teacher standing to walk the little girl back to her classes. Jim watched them go, suddenly feeling numb. He wanted to go home with her, to shoot her father at point blank range. To beat a girl like that. To stop her from going to school. To stop her eating and drinking, it looked like. She was skin and bones, and dehydrated. To 'promise her away', at six or seven years old.

"..I can't stand by and let that happen." He said quietly, watching them disappear into the school building. 

Sebastian's hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he squeezed gently. 

"You have to. We have to. It's not our place."

"She'll die at her father's hands before he has time to promise her away."

"..I know."

 

"How can you live with that?"

"..Who says I can?"


	6. Foxtrot

Jim was quiet on the way back to the base, Dougie's head lolling onto his shoulder as he slept, and the conversation at a lull for once, probably because the men were tired. For Jim personally, he couldn't stop thinking about that little girl, and what she was going home to. He wondered if she'd be at school tomorrow. If she'd even make it that far. He realised with a sinking heart that he hadn't even gotten her name. 

They were rocked lightly from side to side with the tank's juddering rhythm, Greg soon falling asleep on Jim's other side, his shoulders becoming pillows for his sleeping comrades. He smiled a little at the thought, glancing across at the Captain, who sat watching him, his gaze tiredly resigned as he gave a short smile, as if he knew what Jim was thinking about. 

His own father had been merciless. A cruel man, he should never have had children, didn't deserve that unreserved love that Jim had had for him, even in the most painful of beatings. His mother had been useless, of course. She'd stood by, grateful that she wasn't the target of his fists, and patched Jim up wordlessly afterwards, tears rolling down her cheeks. Rocking a five year old to sleep and trying to explain to him why his father couldn't stop hurting him. 

He wondered if that little girl's mother was the same. He couldn't find it in himself to feel sad, nor helpless. He was just angry. His father had been a lot of things. A monster. A terrible person. But at least he'd never stopped Jim from going to school. Still, Jim thought, that was probably due to the fact that in England, he would have been arrested if Jim hadn't gone. Or maybe it was his mother allowing it. He tried to imagine what life would have been like without that escape. Without those books. Without the science chapter that would eventually give him the answer. Without the stolen vial of acid that would burn through his father's esophagus and leave him face down in his liquor one night. 

His mother had tried to patch the old man up, too. Sobbing, she'd been. Jim wondered if he got it from her - the need to fix, to bring together, to cure. He thought about it sometimes. That he was a murderer. That he'd killed a man, no matter the monster he was. He'd ended a life. 

Perhaps it was why he'd felt himself so drawn to the army. He already had experience with murder for the greater good.

 

'Perhaps' didn't really come into it. 

 

He knew that was why.

 

 

-

 

"Drink?"

The word was unexpected, Sebastian's fingers on his arm warm. 

They were standing outside the mess hall, the other men having already filed inside for what Jim had heard was a pretty good chili con carne. Personally, he wasn't that hungry, troubled by his thoughts. Seeing that little girl had brought it all back to him. Not understanding why his father couldn't love him, being so achey all the time, his mother dressing him in thick clothes in the height of summer to hide the bruises.

"..I think I need one." Jim answered honestly, words quiet, and Sebastian ruffled his hair, nodding his head towards the med tent. 

"Meet you on the roof." He said, and Jim frowned, watching him as he ducked into the mess hall. The roof?

Uncertainly, he headed over, the compound deserted in the setting sun, Hamza and Ashan on the gates, Ashan giving him a half wave as he glanced over. He waved back, and then frowned at the walls of the med tent, walking around it until he found the ladder on the back, leading up to the corrugated metal on top. Usually, it'd be scorching, but in the light of the setting sun, the metal was just pleasantly warm, and Jim sat down, propping his hands behind him and looking out on the desert. The sky was orange and purple, and Jim's head felt too full of thoughts. Of memories.

He frowned out at the world, at the dusty terrain. Just.. thinking.

It was certainly peaceful, up here. Away from everything a little. Above his new world. 

The metal sheet shook a little when footsteps came on the ladder, and then the Captain was sitting down beside him, pressing a cardboard container of chili con carne into his hands, and a can of something alcoholic into his lap. 

"..Thank you, sir."

"You can dispense with the 'sirs' for a while, medic."

Jim nodded, and fell silent. He sat up properly, taking a plastic fork when Sebastian passed it to him, the pair of them looking out at the setting sun. Jim spooned food into his mouth absentmindedly, still thinking about that little girl.

 

To be so young, and so trapped..

 

"I know you think that you can help." The Captain told him quietly, digging in slowly to his own food. "But you can't."

Green eyes settled on him, but Jim continued to look out at the purple sky, not choosing to accept that. Sebastian went on. 

"I've seen a lot of girls like her. Boys, too." He chewed for a moment, swallowed and then continued. "Kids that beg you to take them away from it all."

"..And?" Jim asked quietly, eyes falling to his food. He picked at it, eating bits and pieces. 

"And you can't. I wish I could. Believe me."

Lights flickered in the distance, far away on the horizon. The town, no doubt. He didn't want to think about what was happening there. The silence was nice, actually. It was thoughtful, even if not peaceful. His limbs ached, and he spooned the chili into his mouth, his body content even if his mind was unhappy with the damned world. A few long minutes later, and he set his container down inside the Captain's, the two of them still gazing out at the sunset. 

"..Her father could be Taliban."

"Or just a traditionalist." Sebastian pointed out. "As much as I'd enjoy the right to put a bullet through him."

He sighed, and shook his head, moving his arms to rest on his bent knees. 

"You have to think, Jim. He's.. probably the only source of income for her family. Even if we took him away, it might not be the best thing. They'd starve. The mother would be forced to promise her daughter away, just for the money."

Jim thought about that for a moment, annoyed that Sebastian was right. In his head, filling the man with bullets had been perfectly just. A happy ending for all involved. He cracked the top on his drink, and took a long sip, not usually one for drinking. 

"It's so.. fucking unfair, sir."

"..I know."

A few more moments of silence passed, the two of them watching the sun dip down below the horizon, leaving only a faint orange glow as the sky was slowly filled with purple. Jim took another long sip of the beer, never a fan of the drink but finding that it felt.. necessary, after the day. After those memories.

"..Why are you being nice to me?" He asked, turning his head to look at Sebastian over his shoulder, holding his gaze for a moment. The Captain's blonde hair fell into his eyes, and he leaned in, running a thumb over Jim's cheek. Jim stilled, dropping his gaze to the roof, feeling his skin get hot. Sebastian didn't say anything for a long moment, and Jim stuttered out a quiet "..Sir?", before making the mistake of looking up at him again.

The Captain's gaze was on his mouth, and something in Jim's chest tightened, his mouth dry.

"..You understand it." Sebastian murmured quietly, the words low and earnest. "..You.. see it like I do. They're not us and them. They're just.. us."

"..I'd kill him if I had the chance." Jim said, the words barely a whisper, and Sebastian nodded. 

"I know. So would I."

His fingers slid into Jim's hair, and then their mouths were together, warm and slow, soft and careful, those green eyes closing as Jim's fingers curled against the corrugated metal where they lay. His heart beat steadily, having not expected this, and certainly not after today. Sebastian's tongue pressed, careful yet insistent against his lips, and he parted them, a moaned breath catching in his throat. 

"..Fuck.." The word was a soft utterance against his lips, and then the Captain leaned back, his pupils blown. Jim was breathless, watching him a little dazedly, before Sebastian pressed their foreheads together for a moment. 

"I'm your higher." He said quietly, seemingly more to remind himself than Jim. A moment later, and he was up, halfway down the ladder, and then walking back towards his tent as Jim watched him, heart still stuttering in his chest.

"..Yes sir." He said to himself, the words quiet.

 

-

 

Jim stayed up on the roof for longer than he should have, his arms wrapped around his knees, just watching the sky grow darker. He was trying not to overthink things, but overthinking things seemed to be his penchant. He couldn't help but think about what had happened, if it meant anything, if Sebastian was toying with him. If he'd truly meant that kiss, or just gotten carried away with what they were talking about, with that view on the little girl.

 

When the stars finally came out, he climbed down, putting the empty containers in the bin and then heading towards his tent - where Dougie, Greg and Ali were sat outside, all talking quietly around a lamp. 

"Hey, look who it is." Dougie said with a smile, patting the box next to him, and Ali holding out a square of chocolate. Jim sat gratefully with a small smile, and popped the chocolate in his mouth.

"Where'd you get this?" He asked, grateful for the normality of the boys after what had happened. 'I'm your higher' had been his reminder. He knew that. Sebastian's warning that nothing could happen between them. The thought made his heart sink, despite the fact that half of him had hated the Captain over the past two and a half days. Two and a half days. It didn't seem that short a time. Not when his every waking hour was spent here. 

"Special supply." Greg said, and grinned, breaking off another piece for himself. "..You been in the med tent."

"..Yeah."

Dougie put an arm around his shoulders, swaying slightly.

"I feel like we should be around a campfire."

"Where are the others?"

"Betsy's texting his girlfriend, Devo's having a wank, Jakey's reading and the rest are asleep."

"Devo's-"

"I heard that, Dougie, you twat!"

 

The four of them sniggered, and then Ballbag ducked out of the tent, a packet of cigarettes in his hand.

"I wasn't asleep. Who wants one?"

"Where'd you get those?" Dougie asked in indignant awe, and Ballbag grinned, tapping the side of his nose and then tucking a cigarette into his lips. 

"Old Oscar's got a mate back at Bastion."

"Oscar?" Jim wrinkled his nose. "..Who's Oscar?"

Ballbag looked at him like he was stupid for a moment, hands stilling as they cupped the air around his lighter.

"You didn't seriously think my name was 'ball bag', did you?" He asked, cigarette bobbing between his lips.

"No," Jim began, but the others had already fallen about laughing, Jim rolling his eyes as Oscar sat down beside them. 

"You just fuckin' wait, Dougie." Ballbag said, impatiently blowing out his smoke. "I'm gonna make butter balls a thing, and then you'll be the one without a fuckin' name."

Dougie held up his hands in mock fright, and then swiped a cigarette, lighting it and then tossing the lighter at Jim.

"I don't want this."

"You're sharing this with me."

"I don't smoke."

"Yeah neither do I. That's why you're sharing it."

"Isn't it a bit of a contradiction?" Greg piped up, "A medic-"

"Ooooh, a contradition!" Ballbag teased, and Greg pulled a face at him.

"It's contra - dick - shun, actually."

"You're a dick."

 

"Fucking idiot."

Jim couldn't help but laugh, the whole thing making him feel better, even taking a couple of drags of that cigarette when Dougie pressed it to his lips. It was calming, as much as he hated to admit it. Hell, he'd be wheezing tomorrow when they were training. His gaze kept flitting to the Captain's tent, but he never appeared, never came out to see what was going on, even when Skeets and Betsy joined them, and James II dragged out blankets for them to sit around the lamp with. It surprised Jim, actually, just how cold it was at night here. He'd have assumed that it'd be just as stifling as the day.

It was 11pm by the time anyone thought to call it a night, by which time every single one of them was there, and they'd been sat around talking for a good few hours, Jim learning so much more about his comrades. Greg's first tour had seen his best friend killed - blown to pieces.. and it explained why he was so nervous when they were out on patrol. Jakey had a kid back at home, a little girl. Devo wanted to become an officer to make his mother proud, and Max wanted to leave the army altogether. 

 

Finally they headed back inside, Jim sliding an arm around Dougie to help carry him, his friend having fallen asleep on his shoulder. He dimmed the lamp, the others all shuffling to their canvases, and then helped lower him into bed - before he was pulled down with him, laughing quietly as Dougie rolled an arm atop him, not awake enough to realise.

"You're so gay." Jim told him, poking at his cheek, before ruffling his hair and sliding out from beneath him. "Butter balls."

He headed to his own canvas, and stripped down, climbing into bed. He fell asleep quickly, happy for friends, for a beautiful sunset, even if.. whatever had happened with the Captain would fuck him over. And.. that little girl.. He opened his eyes, staring into the darkness.

At last, he put it out of his head, deciding to heed Sebastian's words.

 

You couldn't help them all.

 

 

-

 

The first time Jim saw Sebastian after the kiss was during the punishing run, when he appeared from his tent at last, having not visited them to get them out of bed. As a consequence, Skeets and James II were still asleep, despite the others urging them to get up. Jim glanced over at him mid-stride, almost running straight into Max as he did so, Max swerving around him and then laughing.

"Careful, medic, Jesus.."

"Sorry.."

He craned his neck for him as Sebastian stepped out, staring at the group of runners and seemingly counting them. His eyes floated straight over Jim and he blushed, running a little faster, not wanting to be the subject of his scrutiny. A few moments later, and the Captain had disappeared into their tent - his shouting audible from the other end of the compound.

"-THINK BECAUSE I TAKE MY TIME, YOU CAN SLACK OFF IN BED?"

"NO CAP-TAIN."

"Get up right now, and get the fuck out there."

"YES-"

"RIGHT. NOW."

A short while later, and their group was joined by Skeets and James II, both just in their boxers and unlaced boots, red faced as they ran with them, the others trying hard not to absolutely fall over laughing. Well, Jim reasoned, it did serve them right. He was glad it wasn't him, of course, but then he never would have taken the chance of staying in bed. They were twenty laps in, Jim's legs aching, when James II ran next to him, his skin burning in the sun.

"..Such a fucking.. bastard.." James II muttered to himself, though Devo shot him a look, before scoffing at him.

"Your own fault, idiot."

"No. He's fucking pissed this morning. Look at him. Needs to fucking get.. laid."

They all glanced back at the Captain, who was doing pull ups on the bar beside his tent, his expression stony. Jim swallowed, wondering if that was his fault. As far as he could remember, he was quite sure that Sebastian had kissed him. Yes, he'd kissed back but.. well.. who wouldn't?

"Admiring the view?" Dougie teased, elbowing him and nodding towards the Captain, and Jim laughed just a little too quickly, cheeks beetroot as he ran a little faster, falling into step with his friend. 

 

"As if."

 

"Oh come on. Don't tell me you've never thought about playing for the other side." Dougie quipped, his grin cheeky, and Jim rolling his eyes. They turned a corner, and he was half-heartedly racing his friend, though Dougie would always win. He was taller, broader, undoubtedly faster.

"Oh, you mean like you, butter balls?"

He received a few laughs for that, Dougie snorting. 

"Don't be daft."

"You were trying to spoon me last night when I put you to bed. All cuddly, you were.."

"Yeah, shut up."

Jim laughed again, managing to get ahead for a few moments before Dougie left him in the dust. When they finally finished - Jim still fully conscious again, rather proudly - Sebastian dumped their canteens on the dusty ground in front of them, before stalking off towards the mess tent for breakfast, his words brusque.

"Get showered. Get ready. And then breakfast."

He hadn't looked at Jim once, and Jim felt rather unhappy, feeling like he was being.. punished for something. But that couldn't be the case, surely. Not for.. Sebastian's own damned mistake. 

"YES CAP-TAIN."

The words were rather disgruntled from Skeets and James II, both of whom were still in their pants, sweaty and with sunburnt shoulders, panting with the rest of them. Jim trailed into the showers, draining his canteen and stripping off as quickly as possible, facing the wall again as he washed himself. The boys seemed to think nothing of holding full conversations whilst naked, and Jim found it quite unsettling, bizarre and yet bloody hilarious, Ali launching into a detailed description of his girlfriend back home while rinsing off his hair, and Jakey piping up about his wife, claiming that she could knock all of their damned girlfriends out of the park. 

They were still laughing as they walked into the mess hall, the Captain glaring at them as he stood with their Afghan brothers, all of them glancing up as they entered.

"That took long enough." He said, the team quieting as they sat down at the table, wordlessly filling their plates under that tense scrutiny. Dougie sat next to him, and was trying his hardest not to laugh, lips pursed flat, shaking a little with the effort. Jim elbowed him under the table, and Dougie took the opportunity to mouth 'butter balls' at him, Jim trying and failing not to burst out laughing, not even sure what he was laughing at.

"Medic." Sebastian growled, the sound putting ice into Jim's stomach, his gaze resolutely on the table. "Outside. Now."

"No, Seb, it was my fault." Dougie said, standing, holding out a hand. "I made him laugh."

"It's fine, Dougie." Jim said, climbing out of his seat. "It doesn't matter." Probably be good for him and the 'Captain' to have a chat, anyway. 

"It does matter." Dougie said, giving him a look. "I'm not letting you get bollocked-"

"This is very sweet." Sebastian mocked, though his shoulders were tight, his expression furious under the sarcastic smile. "Both of you idiots get the fuck outside."

 

-


	7. Golf

Their comrades gave a loud 'oooohhhhhhh' together, laughing quietly as Jim and Dougie filed out, the Captain close behind them, though Sebastian turned at the last moment to snap at them all, and silence fell. 

The door closed behind them, and Jim's stomach rumbled, starving after that run. He held his chin high, meeting Sebastian's gaze, though his cheeks were pink, remembering their mouths moving together, the Captain's fingers in his hair. His mouth dry, he glanced at Dougie, who was still eating half a slice of toast. The sight made Jim start laughing again, and Sebastian rounded on him, getting right in his face.

"Do you think this is funny, medic?"

The words were harsh, his gaze furious, but Jim held it, glaring back at him.

"No sir. There's nothing funny about this."

"I don't even understand what's going on." Dougie said, through a mouthful of toast, and Sebastian jabbed a thumb back at the tent.

"Get out of my fucking sight. And don't take the piss again, or I'll have you on latrine duty for the rest of your fucking time here."

"Yes, Captain."

Dougie didn't move, glancing at Jim for a moment, and he smiled.

"I'll be fine, butter balls. Go ahead."

"Arsehole."

Jim laughed, watching him duck back inside, and then turned to the Captain, who was looking away.

"What's your problem, sir?" He asked him, as calmly as he could, those green eyes falling on him.

"You want to watch your mouth, medic." Sebastian said back almost immediately, holding Jim's gaze. Jim's heart stuttered a little in his chest, and he made a point of looking at the Captain's mouth when he spoke.

"Yes, Captain."

"Stop doing that."

He dragged his attention back to those green eyes.

"I am your higher. Last night was inappropriate. It won't happen again."

"Fine."

"Do you understand me, medic?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"It's.. it's not that I don't want-" Sebastian's voice softened slightly and he stepped closer, a hand sliding down as if to hold Jim's. 

"I said I understand, sir. Can I get back to my breakfast?" Jim's words were short, harsh, and he made to head back inside, Sebastian grabbing his arm at the last moment, blinking at him as if wounded. He had no right. No right at all to be wounded. Jim gave him a long look, and he let go, nodding once.

"..Yeah. Go."

"Thank you. Sir." The words were a mutter, and Jim headed back inside.

 

Sebastian didn't rejoin them.

 

\- 

 

The next week and a half passed monotonously. Comfortably, Jim thought, but without that spark of excitement that had fueled the first three days. 

 

Samey.

They got up. They ran. 

Jim was getting better by the day, no longer feeling like he was about to die by the end of it, content to lean against the wall and breathe, to laugh with his comrades and then head for the showers - though he still hid himself away in a corner, not yet comfortable enough to laugh and sing with the boys, stark bollock naked. After showers, they'd eat breakfast together. The boys that was, not the Captain. Sebastian had taken to leaving them well alone, hiding away in his tent or sitting with the Afghans to eat. He pushed them harder than before, the patrols going on into the evening, until every last child had gone home from school - and they were going now, every day.

 

Jim loved to see that. He had a beady eye for that little girl, watching every day for new bruises, and as expected, they appeared. The first day he'd noticed that, he'd gone straight to Sebastian.. only to be ignored, dismissed for making a fuss, the Captain cold and unyielding. He was nothing like the man Jim had thought he was. It just went to show him, though, he thought. You can't know a person after only a couple of days. No matter how good looking. No matter how soft his lips were against Jim's own. 

He'd been spending a lot of time with the boys. He and Dougie went everywhere together, Jim finding that they got on well. Dougie's wry humour and cheeky personality fit well with Jim's quiet mind, and they'd become almost a partnership in the group, though Jim felt closer to them all. He had an affinity with Skeets about the showers, and he'd sat with Greg for hours going over his experiences with the first tour. The blood, the loss of his friend, the nerves that he felt when they were out. He felt privileged that Greg should share with him, but he wasn't the only one. Maybe it was because he was a medic, but he seemed to attract those quiet confessions. On the ruse of having Jim look at a mark on his back, Ali sat with him in the med tent one night, and told him all about his Muslim family, about how some of his cousins called him a traitor for fighting the Taliban, completely not understanding the concept of extremism, or the extent of their barbarism. 

Jakey shared with him how much he missed his young daughter, and even Devo talked about his brother, how the war had broken him both physically and mentally, how he hoped never to go through that, was determined to press ahead. 

For the most part.. The Captain ignored him. Since that morning at breakfast, he'd barely spoken to Jim, and if he had, it was to give orders with a bark of 'medic'.. to attend to a child with scraped knees, or to give some paracetamol to one of the men with a headache. 

Sebastian ran alone, and he ate away from them, and Jim couldn't help feeling guilty for breaking up the team. If Sebastian did pay them attention, it was to be rougher with them, to order them one way or another, to give them more laps or tell them to fucking shut up at night, when the majority of them would sit outside the tent after dinner, talking about their lives back home. Their hopes for the future, around watered down hot chocolates or the rare can of beer.

Exactly two weeks to the day that Jim had landed in Camp Bastion, things changed. And they changed drastically.

 

-

 

They were just out of the showers, and Jim and Dougie were eating breakfast outside, tea and toast in the stifling sun. Jim's hair was wet, flat to his head, and Dougie was leaning against him, talking about some joke that Ballbag had told him, the morning comfortable. The morning run had tired Jim out already, but he was ready for the day, knew what to expect, was falling into a rhythm here.

A shadow fell over them, and Jim glanced up to find Sebastian standing there, immediately climbing to his feet with a frown, holding his plate and cup. Dougie grumbled, climbing up too, glancing at Jim before the two of them yelled together;

"CAP-TAIN, SIR."

"Jim, I need to talk to you."

The words were unexpected, and Jim blinked, Dougie turning to look at him and taking another bite of his toast. Sebastian's words were softer than usual, quieter somehow, and he hadn't called him anything other than 'medic' in well over a week. 

"Yes, sir."

Jim pressed his plate into Dougie's hands, widening his eyes at him a little, and Dougie nodded at the Captain, before heading back into the mess hall. Jim turned to the Captain, swallowing a little. They hadn't been alone since that talk, over a week and a half ago. After Jim had cut off Sebastian's explanation, stormed back into the mess hall, leaving him alone. He'd tried to apologise afterwards, but Sebastian wouldn't allow him. He hadn't spoken to Jim, hadn't let them be alone, hadn't even walked near him on patrols. He'd showered either before or after them all, and done his own runs in the evening. In terms of avoiding him.. he'd done a thorough job. 

 

Jim tried to pretend that it didn't hurt. One kiss shouldn't have left that sort of mark. And yet, it was that hope that had come with it, that shared understanding that he'd thought they had. And watching him be so cold..

Sebastian nodded towards the med tent, and Jim followed him as he turned to walk to it, noticing that a couple of the Afghan men at the gates were watching them. 

He turned to him once they were inside, Jim's palms beginning to sweat.

"..Sir?"

"The Taliban have threatened to blow up the school."

Jim blinked fast for a few seconds, and then swallowed, his mouth dry. And then he was in business mode again. "..When?"

"I don't know. They don't exactly send out invitations." The Captain was beginning to pace, fingers to his lips in his anxiety, Jim watching him with uncertainty. 

"Well how-"

"Hamza received a tip off. He came to me straight away. The threat has been issued around the village, and obviously when we get there, none of the kids will be in school. I don't actually think they'll fucking blow it, but hell it's enough of a fucking threat." He slammed his fists down on the metal countertop, Jim's ordered boxes rattling. "This is so fucking smart! It's.. infuriating!"

"Sebastian." Jim stepped closer in his alarm, holding out his hands. 

"Our hard work is going to go to waste. Who's going to send their kid to school? Would you?"

The words were angry, and Jim shook his head slowly, uncertainly. "..No..?"

"Motherfuckers think they've got it cracked-"

"Sebastian, calm down.."

The words were almost an order, and the Captain looked back at him, snapped out of his anger into sudden surprise, Jim folding his arms over his chest.

 

"..Calm.. down..?"

Jim swallowed, nodding once and mustering any confidence he could find.

"Yes. You're no use to anyone fucking ranting and raving."

Sebastian looked at him for a long moment, and then said rather curtly; "..You're not allowed to talk to me like that."

"And you're not allowed to kiss me, but I think we have a little lee way there." Jim's words were a simple quip, not sure where his sudden gall had come from, and Sebastian fell silent, slowly raising an eyebrow.

"Well. Someone's certainly brave today."

"Just.. stop freaking out." Jim said, his cheeks pink, looking away. "..There has to be something we can do. We can stop them planting explosives.. Increase patrols-"

"Even if we increase them, they'll get through. We stay until 4pm, they'll come at 5. We stay til fucking midnight, they'll be there at 2 in the morning-"

"We can follow the tip off right to the source-"

"I've tried that. There is no source. I just have a name, a name that could be a thousand men in this town."

Jim fell silent for a while, sighing exasperatedly and sitting down on one of the plastic chairs in the corner, Sebastian beginning to pace again. He let him for a few long minutes, and then spoke up again, checking the time. They were already late for first patrol.

"..Why are you coming to me with this? Don't you have highers? Don't you have.. commanders, and people to discuss this with? You haven't spoken to me in over a week and a half, and suddenly I'm-"

"You have a rational mind. You think.. like me. Or.. or at least, like me when I'm.. not.." He ran a hand over his forehead, closing his eyes, the stress showing on his face. 

Jim frowned.

 

He began again, voice quiet, trying to be a little more respectful, a little less resentful of Sebastian's behaviour over the last week. Trying not to think about sitting on the top of the med tent alone, confused as the Captain paced away. This was work. There were innocent lives on the line. He had to rise above it. For some god forsaken reason, the Captain had come to him for advice.

"..I think.. first things first. Sir."

Sebastian looked over at him, green eyes tired. Jim went on.

"Let's go on the patrol. See what we can see, what we can find. Then, we decide. Sir."

-

 

Skeets and Betsy were in the middle of an arm wrestle when Jim and the Captain walked back into the mess hall, the others all cheering them on, and Dougie rising first when he noticed them. The others soon broke apart, Betsy winning (obviously), and the lot of them standing to attention with a chant of;

"CAP-TAIN, SIR."

"At ease. I need you ready and in the tank in thirty seconds. Fall out."

The men began to move for the door, only Dougie stopping to frown at Jim, who shook his head. "..Don't, Dougie. I can't talk about it."

Dougie frowned at him, ruffling his hair and then following him from the mess hall, Sebastian staying to discuss their position with Ashan and Toufique, who were sitting at the table still. His eyes followed Jim to the door though, and Jim forced himself to look away. The Captain's eyes seemed to burn him, and it was ridiculous. They hadn't spoken properly in over a week, hadn't shared a single look that was more than a headcount or a glance in passing, and yet he still had the damned ability to make Jim's chest tighten. 

"Since when did you become privy to secrets?" Dougie asked, scoffing and Jim rolled his eyes, pushing him.

"Maybe it's super secret medical information."

"My arse."

"What about it?" Jim quipped back, and Dougie rolled his eyes.

"Kiss it."

"Come on, knuckleheads." Devo ordered, slapping them both on the shoulder as he pushed between them, heading for the tank, Jim pausing to pull on his helmet, and then lift the med bag higher on his shoulders. Within a few minutes, they were in the tank and ready to go, the Captain shutting the door after them with a clang. 

"Fuck, it's boiling in here." Greg whined, tussling with James II to be on watch, James II winning out and immediately standing on the plinth in the centre,his head and shoulders out in the open air of the hatch.

"The Neo mobile strikes again." Max remarked glumly, and Jim shook his head, taking a long drink out of his canteen. 

 

-

 

To Jim's surprise, Sebastian didn't brief the others on the school situation, merely sitting in a brooding silence for the entire tank journey, not even shutting up the boys when they began to sing old campfire songs. And even Jim found those irritating after a while, though Dougie poked him until he joined in on the damned 50 green bottles on the wall song. He reasoned that the Captain must be particularly stressed, which in turn made him uneasy.

 

Sebastian was four tours ahead. There was nothing that he wouldn't have seen.

 

When they finally juddered to a halt, Sebastian made sure that he was the first up, first by the door, which didn't escape Jim's notice. He still didn't mention the possible problem, perhaps hoping that it wouldn't be as bad as it seemed. The boys were still talking animatedly about Max' last shag, a woman by the name of Debs who Skeets seemed to know somehow, the others whooping with laughter - until the Captain held out a hand, green eyes serious and his voice as cold as slate.

"Neo team. Today might be difficult. I want you all aware. Alert. On your toes, do you hear me?"

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"I mean it. No fooling around."

Dougie twined his arm with Jim's, and Sebastian fell silent for a moment, looking at them both. And then he added, just as curtly;

"Medic. You're with me."

After a bemused pause, Jim nodded, and Dougie reluctantly slid his arm away, Devo twining arms with him instead and kissing him on the cheek, to which Dougie told him to fuck off, the boys falling about laughing again.

"Be quiet." The Captain barked, and silence fell quickly, the tension audible in his voice, visible in the stiff set of his jaw. "Any man who can't calm the fuck down can wait in the tank, and clean the damned latrines all night. We're trying to save lives here. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain." The chorus was quiet, half-hearted, like scolded children.

"Is that clear?!"

"YES, CAP-TAIN."

That was better. Jim filed out after Sebastian, glancing back apologetically at Dougie, who held up his middle finger, Jim laughing as he walked at the front of the line, med bag on his back. That smile faded quickly when they reached the school, the whole place as damned silent as that first day that they'd visited.

 

Worse. 

 

They headed inside slowly, the men all silent in realisation, the wooden door having been kicked off it's hinges, lying smashed into smithereens on the floor. Desks were smashed too, wood splintered at the bottom of the walls, clearly having been thrown.. papers were thrown everywhere, and bullets fired into one of the blackboards, the men solemn as they walked from room to room, assessing the damage.

 

Realistically, it wasn't that bad.

There were no casualties, of course. They'd been here yesterday, seeing that every child got home safe, hadn't left for the markets until the school was empty again, walking back with the teachers and their chaperones. But it was bad. Bad because it was the threat, a visible threat, rather than just a whisper on the wind. Though the whisper must have been bad enough, because not a single child was here. Nor their teachers. 

"..Fuckin' Taliban." Ali muttered, receiving a few glances, a few mutters of agreement, Sebastian choosing that moment to explain the threat. They were standing inside one of the main classrooms, and Jim's eyes settled on a fallen string of drawings, crayoned trees and sunshine being pierced by bullet holes, and coated with dust. 

"There's been a threat to blow up the school. I was informed this morning."

Dougie glanced at Jim. 

"Obviously no parent wants to bring their child here. But we need to ensure it. We'll maintain a constant presence around the school for the next few days, and we'll go to the town and patrol now. We need to show them that we're here to stay. That they're safe. I want you all to take this name, and I want you to listen for any sign of it. I want you to remember this name. It's all we have. It's the name that our tip-off gave to Hamza. He has no surname, or at least, we don't know it. For all we know, this could be the most common damn name in the world. Sadaf. Remember it."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"Fall out. We're going to go into the town and find the teachers."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"Medic. You're upfront with me."

"Teacher's pet.." Dougie muttered.


	8. Hotel

"Any reason you keep doing that?" Jim asked quietly, words half nonchalant as he walked beside the Captain, the others all in a line behind them. Sebastian held the metal detector as always, swiping it in front of him as they walked, checking for mines. Jim wondered just how many of these little jobs that Sebastian took on himself, rather than relegating them to lesser men. It was quite.. honourable, really.

"Doing what?"

Jim dipped down his chin, giving his best throaty impression of the Captain's low voice.

"'Medic. You're with me.'"

Sebastian glanced up at him, raising his eyebrows, though his mouth quirked at the corner. "..Is that what I sound like?"

"It is, sir."

"Thanks."

They fell quiet again, and a few long minutes later, Jim glanced at him again.

"You didn't answer me."

"What?"

"You didn't answer me. Why do you keep doing it? And don't tell me it's because of my 'rational mind'.."

Sebastian looked at him amusedly, and then glanced back at the rest of Neo team. 

"You're becoming awfully brazen lately. Maybe I ought to shout at you again like your first day.."

"That was a horrible thing to do."

"Really funny, though."

"Still haven't answered me.." Jim sang, and the Captain rolled his eyes.

"..Fine." He said, and then fell silent for a moment or two. He kept his gaze forward, looking very much like he was concentrating on scouting the terrain. "Maybe I just don't trust you to concentrate with Dougie around."

"Dougie?" Jim repeated incredulously, trying to keep his voice down, lest his friend hear. "Oh, please! He might joke around at base, but he's good out here. He brought that little boy to me with the grazed knees, remember? And he suggested we patrol the back of the school, as well as the front. He's no time waster."

"Well somebody certainly sounds smitten.." Sebastian muttered, glancing around himself as they headed into the hilly area just before the town began. 

Jim's mouth fell open, an indignant little laugh leaving him.

"Excuse me? What?"

Sebastian didn't answer, concentrating very hard on the hills for a while, and Jim looked at him closely, hint of a smile beginning on his lips.

"Oh my God. You're jealous."

"Don't be stupid, medic. Why would I be jealous?"

The Captain's words were a touch too brusque, and Jim couldn't help the smug little smile that settled on his own lips. No wonder Sebastian had been giving him daggers for the last week. He thought he was with Dougie. Of all people!

"Why indeed?" Jim hummed, and Sebastian said nothing, stoic for a few moments as they walked, before muttering again, glancing back at Dougie, currently talking animatedly with Betsy, though he glanced at Jim when he looked back, and smiled.

"He's fucking puppy dog crazy for you."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm really not."

"You really are, sir. Besides, you've ignored me for the past week and a half. You don't really get a say."

Sebastian nodded slowly, bitter smile on his lips for a moment. "So you do like him."

Jim snorted. "God, no." He nudged the Captain in the side, Sebastian looking back at him. "But great to know you're still interested."

"Interested?" He shook his head, looking away. "Medic, I told you. I'm-"

"My higher. Yeah. Got that the first time."

Sebastian opened his mouth to retort, but whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the echoing bang and crack of gunfire, which was suddenly all around them.

-

The sound was instantaneous and deafening, and before he knew what was happening, the Captain had yelled "GET DOWN," and thrown himself on Jim, winding him as he brought him down into the dust. The bullets continued to rain, and they were exposed, shielded only by the smallest hills that flanked the road, Sebastian already crawling on his stomach towards one of them, using it as a semi-base as he swung his gun around, firing into the dusty terrain. The men, tiny black shapes, were darting behind the hills, leaning out to fire at them, machine guns that sent off round after round, Jim still face down in the dust, breathing hard with his hands over his head. 

"JIM!"

The cry of his voice was choked, panicked, coming from one of the boys - though Jim couldn't seem to unfreeze his limbs, locked stiff in his shock, heart slamming into his ribs at a million beats per second. Sebastian glanced back for a split second, Skeets and James II now shooting with him, and Greg moving behind the next hill on his belly, Dougie following closely. 

"JIM!" His voice was called again, and Jim could discern the caller this time - it was Ali, screaming for help, Max joining in after a moment, Betsy crawling towards him on his belly, pausing to fire off round after round. 

"MEDIC." It was Sebastian this time, his voice firm and authoritative, those green eyes hard as bottle glass as he found Jim's panicked gaze. "They need your help. Go."

He didn't move. Couldn't move. Frozen solid.

Betsy reached him, tugging at his med bag, but Jim was panicking, shaking, the adrenaline finally kicking in as he turned to look over, as he saw his friends on the floor, crouched over khaki and blood. 

"I'm coming." Jim croaked with an attempt at confidence, and Betsy slapped him on the back.

"Good lad." He said, though his voice trembled, staying beside Jim as they crawled back through the dust towards Ali and Max, before he left him to shoot with Jakey and Ballbag. Jim's arms felt stiff as he crawled across the ground, feeling a lump in his throat and panic in his chest, Ali and Max pulling at him when he was close enough, sitting behind him to guard him with their guns. Jim, and their fallen comrade.

Devo.

"We've got you covered." Ali said confidently, Max agreeing, his own voice angry.

"I'm gonna blow those fuckers to fuckin' bits. You hang in there Devo, you hear me? Devo??"

Jim brought his med bag into his lap, fumbling with shaking fingers at the zip and pulling out all he could think of that would help, before he finally allowed himself to meet Devo's frightened gaze, his friend gritting his teeth against pained gasps. He'd been shot in the side, just to the side of the lungs - or so Jim hoped, though the bullet had somehow caught one side of his arm as well, the bone visible, and blood gushing from both wounds. 

"Hey Devo," He said, trying his best to sound calm and natural, taking a wad of bandage to press against his side, though Devo screamed and arched himself off the floor. "No, no no no - please don't do that, don't do that, hi Devo, hi, I'm here, it's Jim.. It's Jimbo, the medic, remember? Say Jim , say Jim for me.."

He taped the side as best he could, that wad of bandage doing little to stem the pouring blood, the next one going around his arm with a tourniquet above it, though that too had him screaming, Jim forced to hold him down with a hand on his chest, wrapping the bandage one handedly, lucky that Devo wasn't able to move the arm, lest he send Jim's hard work flying everywhere. The moment he had the blood flow staunched, if only for a minute, his radio crackled into life, Sebastian's voice finding him.

"How's he looking, medic?"

"I need the air ambulance. I've stopped the flow but not for long, he needs urgent attention. I.. I don't think he'll lose the arm..-"

"They're en route."

"Jim." Devo's voice was strong, which was a good sign, but the croak of fear in his tone made Jim scared for him.. He could only imagine what he was thinking, after his brother had lost a leg this very same way, had never been physically or mentally the same again, could see that.. fright.. in his friend's eyes.

"You listen to me." He told him, his voice shaking, those bullets still cracking around them, though they sounded distant - their own gunfire then, which was a good sign. Any Taliban gunmen must have run, or been shot down. Or at least, be somewhere in that process. "You're going to be absolutely fine. That's not happening to you. You'll.. we'll laugh about this, yeah? One day. We will, I promise."

"I'm gonna die.."

"Don't be so dramatic, you prick.." Jim laughed, but the sound was weak and frightened, and Devo's uninjured hand clasped at Jim's own, Jim squeezing it hard. He heard heavy footsteps beside him, Sebastian announcing into his radio that they were 'clear'.. and only moments later, the chopper began to descend, the dust blowing into Jim's eyes, all over the place, as it landed. Sebastian must have called them the moment Devo was shot. He leaned down over him, protecting his wounds from the sand, that chest wound already beginning to bleed through that wad of bandage. 

"Please!" Jim called, his throat dry with dust. "..Please, he needs to go now!"

Two khaki meds were running towards him with a stretcher, Jim standing, helping to load Devo onto it, running back to the helicopter with him, the Neo team surrounding them as an armed guard. Devo still held his hand tight, and Jim smiled down at him with all he could muster, fear and adrenaline still pounding in his chest.

"You're fine.. Devo.. you're fine.. you're.. I promise.."

He disappeared into the helicopter, one of the medics curtly shaking Jim's hand before the door was closed and the Captain was tugging Jim back as they took off again, Jim turning into him to escape the shower of dust. It had all.. happened so fast.

Suddenly, the helicopter was gone, and Jim was left staring at Devo's blood in the dust, the team shell shocked as they stood with him. 

"We're going back to base." The Captain announced with quiet consideration. "I'll have our Afghan contacts spread the word around the town. Talk to the teachers. We'll pick up on the school tomorrow."

 

-

The journey back to base was solemn and silent, and Jim could feel Greg shaking beside him the whole time, slipping a hand down for him to hold, which he did, secretly, embarrassed about it no doubt, though he smiled thankfully at him. Jim felt shaken himself, unable to stop himself from seeing it all. It wasn't so much the blood, or the bone and skin.. it was that fear in Devo's eyes, that hand tight on his own, that panic that he could read in the rest of the team. 

The sense that one of them was missing now. Even if Jim was.. seventy per cent sure that Devo would live. They were lucky that Sebastian had called the copter when he had. If they'd waited until Jim had had him stabilised, it might not have made it in time. 

When they finally arrived at base, they filed out of the tank door numbly, still holding guns, Sebastian speaking with quiet authority.

"Betsy, James II and Greg, I want you to take the guns and polish them. Take them apart, clean them, put them back together and reload the ammo." The four nodded, walking around to collect the guns from the others. "Max, Ali, Dougie and Jakey, you'll be relieving the Afghan men at the gate. I want you to go and speak with them, tell them the situation with the school. They're to spread the message around the town. If they need more instructions, send them my way."

The three headed off, Dougie hanging back for a minute to squeeze Jim's shoulder, before he too headed off to the gates. Sebastian continued.

"Ballbag.. - Oscar - and Skeets, I want you to write an incident report, each. I need two from the team, and I'll corroborate them with my own later on. Then.. you can all rest. Use the med tent."

When everyone had gone, only Jim and Sebastian remained, and Jim hugged himself hard, his words quietly numb.

"You didn't give me a job to do."

"..You already did your job." The Captain reached out, rubbing Jim's arm lightly, though he couldn't quite feel it. He just felt.. cold. "You saved his life. Well done, medic."

"He might not live yet."

"..He will." Sebastian said with quiet confidence. "I've seen men come back from much worse."

Jim looked up at him, his gaze a little haunted. "...Like his brother, sir?"

"..Just like his brother." The Captain frowned at that, seemingly in memory, and put an arm around Jim's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. "..Come with me."

Jim wasn't sure he'd have been able to refuse even if he wanted to. His body felt leaden, heavy as he followed Sebastian to his tent, letting himself be sat down on the edge of the bed, and a plastic cup of what smelt like whiskey placed into his hands.

"You've had a shock. Drink a mouthful." Sebastian said gently, and Jim looked down into the cup, his fingers cold and trembling around it.

"It's my job. I'm supposed to be prepared for this." Jim's words were quiet.

"Nothing could ever prepare you for this, medic."

"...Jim."

Sebastian gave a half smile, looking rather tired. 

"..Jim."

Jim gave a meek smile back, and lifted the cup to his lips, taking a sip. It burned as it ran down his throat, and he shivered, wishing that he was stronger than this. Two weeks of settling in, only to have his world turned upside down. To show him that any single one of them could be taken away in a single instant, no matter his history, no matter his life. The Captain came to sit beside him after a moment, the canvas bed creaking, and a warm hand reaching tentatively to stroke fingers over his cheek, Sebastian's skin rough, but his touch soft. 

Jim closed his eyes. 

"..Were they waiting for us, sir?" He asked quietly, and Sebastian's fingers stilled for a moment.

"Maybe. But I don't think so."

"..Why not?"

A warm thumb skimmed gently over his cheekbone.

"Do you really want to know?"

"..I really want to know."

Sebastian's words were resigned, but measured, certain. "..If they were waiting for us, we'd be dead. Or at least... a few of us would be badly injured. The fact that they only got one of us.. It makes me think that we caught them offguard. Right place, wrong time. We were lucky."

"Lucky." Jim repeated hollowly, and Sebastian dropped his hand slowly, seemingly deciding that Jim couldn't be comforted.

Jim caught that hand, brought it back to his cheek, and closed his eyes, leaning against the calloused skin. 

"You saved his life." He murmured after a moment, and Sebastian shook his head, just watching him.

"You did all the hard work. I just.. radioed for the copter."

"..You saved my life, then." Jim added, and Sebastian didn't argue that time, staying silent until Jim opened his eyes, found green eyes fixed on him, his hands still around the Captain's own. 

"..I guess you owe me." He murmured at last, holding Jim's gaze and leaning in, before Jim put a finger to his lips, the words a low reminder.

 

"You're my higher."

"..You're my.. medic."

The words were near spoken against his lips, before Sebastian was kissing him, his mouth warm and urgent, and a hand sliding back into Jim's hair, the second kiss mirroring the first, a week and a half ago in front of the sunset. Again, he parted his lips for Sebastian's tongue, and this time, when Jim felt him pull away, he pressed forwards, his hands finding the Captain's chest and pushing him down lightly onto his bed. He kicked off his boots slowly, taking his time to unfasten Sebastian's jacket and slide it from his shoulders, the Captain propping himself on his elbows to steal another slow kiss.

That vest came next, Jim tugging it over his Captain's head and then proceeding to kiss down his torso, tasting sweat and dust, feeling green eyes on him, gentle fingers in his hair. He laughed breathlessly when he tugged off Sebastian's boots, almost falling off the bed, and pushing down his trousers afterwards, letting his kisses linger around the Captain's hipbones, and trying not to think about what they were doing. At least, trying not to think about Sebastian regretting it, as he had done the kiss.

Sebastian's hands found him next, undressing him quickly, quietly, with a gentle ease that made Jim shiver, before he pushed him down onto his back, and climbed from the bed to zip the door shut. When he returned, Sebastian reached down under the bed, bringing out a bottle that had Jim's stomach tightening with anticipation, an embarrassingly quiet moan leaving him when the Captain began to slick his fingers, whilst simultaneously trapping Jim's lips in a slow and searing kiss. 

Worried that if he thought about it too long, he wouldn't be able to go through with this, Jim tried not to think about it at all, living in the moment - enjoying Sebastian's hands on him, his fingers pressing inside him tentatively, carefully, enjoying that tongue that skimmed his bottom lip, those green eyes watching him as he arched his back slightly beneath him. He tried even harder not to think about the others, going about their duties obliviously, while the Captain breathed soft words into the medic's mouth.

Jim hadn't done this in a while, and that third finger dragged a gasp from his throat, though heat fizzled in his chest, his arms snaking around Sebastian's neck and kissing him a little harder. Sebastian took the hint, beginning to pump his fingers slowly, and Jim spread his legs, swearing desperately against the Captain's mouth. A sound outside made them both still, though no other sounds joined it, and Jim took the opportunity to kiss Sebastian again, shivering as he heard him slicking himself up, and then reaching above himself to grasp onto the metal post of the canvas bed when he lined himself up. 

"..Relax.. Jim.." Sebastian breathed, and Jim let his eyes flutter closed as he pressed inside, filling him with warmth, with a thick heat that dragged another moan from him. Sebastian quieted him with another kiss, pressing inside slowly to the hilt, his arms sliding to Jim's sides, to hold him to himself, his skin hot. He rested there for a long minute or so, just letting Jim get used to him, and Jim appreciated the thought, and even moreso, the slow kisses, the gentle words. 

When he finally began to move, Jim opened his eyes, watching his Captain a little dazedly, choked sounds leaving him with each low roll of his hips. He tipped his head back, and Sebastian proceeded to kiss at his neck, lingering presses at the skin as Jim's own fingernails dragged paths into the muscled skin of his back. 

A slow burn, low in his stomach, was already beginning to coil tighter, helped by the rhythm that Sebastian fell into, his arms hooking behind Jim's knees, deepening the angle and dragging a few low keens from Jim's throat. He was trying his damnedest to be quiet, but it was hard, especially in an already silent tent - and when they finally fell into a steady, punishing pace, Jim was biting at the skin of his Captain's shoulder, lest he cry out aloud, and alert his teammates to their activities. 

The slap of skin on skin joined the creak of the canvas bed and Sebastian's low gasps as they reached their peak, a thin sheen of sweat covering his Captain's skin, beautiful in the dim light of the tent. Jim managed to slip a hand down to himself, spilling over his fingers only seconds after Sebastian emptied himself inside him, the Captain tipping his head back with a guttural groan, his lips parted and eyes closed, Jim sure that he'd never seen something so erotic in all his life. 

Aftershocks still flitting through him, Jim pulled the Captain down onto himself, twining his arms around his neck and just laying like that for a while, able to feel his heavy heartbeat race against his own. When he finally leaned back, blonde hair fell into those green eyes, and Jim brushed it back and kissed him again, slowly now, lazily. He realised distractedly that it had been a way to deal with things, with the day, with what had happened to Devo.. 

And he didn't care. 

Still breathless, he ran his fingers through Sebastian's hair, the Captain propping himself above him on his elbows, mouth quirking into a smirk as he dipped his head down to kiss him. Jim smiled, and made a show out of rolling his eyes, words a touch shy.

"..Well. That certainly helped."

"It did indeed. Blew off a little.. steam.." Sebastian pressed another kiss to his forehead, and Jim smiled, before running his hands down the Captain's chest, drawing patterns across those scars. 

"..You have to tell me what these are from.."

"..Is that an order, medic?" Sebastian murmured, kissing slowly along Jim's jaw. Jim smiled, closing his eyes, tilting his head to give him better access.

"..Yes, Captain.."


	9. India

When Jim finally snuck out of the Captain's tent, it was past dinner, and he ducked into the mess hall, hoping to grab some leftovers without attracting the attention of the boys. Sebastian was going to come out in around ten minutes, to save suspicion, though Jim had promised to save him a plateful of whatever was on offer.

There'd be one less soldier dining with them tonight, anyway. The thought was a heavy stone in Jim's light chest. 

He realised rather quickly that he'd been wrong. Voices quietened as he walked inside the mess tent, the boys all looking up morosely, sitting behind empty plates and clutching at hot mugs, deep in discussion about the obvious. A space had even been left empty, the space two from the end that Jim recognised as Devo's seat. Dougie stood up when he entered, making space for him, a couple of the others shuffling along the bench, and Jim gave a small smile, sitting down. 

"..How are we doing?" He asked quietly, trying not to think about Sebastian. It seemed selfish at a time like this to be happy, to let his heart sing with what had just happened. When Devo was missing, fighting for his life.. when his mother and brother were being contacted, and told that he'd been injured in action. A hot mug was slid across to him, a watery hot chocolate inside, and Jim thanked Max with a nod, frowning guiltily at his downcast team.

"..Not so good." Skeets answered eventually, leaning down to rest his arms on the table, and prop his chin on them. Jakey squeezed one of his shoulders.

"Have we had any news?" Jim asked, and received a few bemused looks, Dougie tilting his head at him.

"Isn't that what the captain was listening for?"

"What?"

"On the radio? The radio in his tent? Updates?"

"Oh.. Oh, yeah, probably. I haven't seen him though. I've been sorting out the med bag." Jim lied smoothly, those bemused looks falling away. "..I bet he'll be out soon. I don't think he's eaten."

"It was my fault." Ali said hoarsely, looking into his drink. "..I should have been scouting. I was.. talking. I wasn't even looking-"

"Hey, listen alright?" Dougie said sternly, "It was no one's fault but the fucker that shot him."

"..Did we get them?" Jim asked, glancing at his friend and taking a sip of his hot chocolate. "..Did we shoot any of them?"

Greg interjected glumly, stirring sugar cubes into his drink. "..I think we injured a couple, but they all ran. Should have killed one, for God's sake.."

"Everyone was shaken." Jim pointed out, "Don't be too hard on yourselves."

"No, but if we'd got one properly, really hurt him, we could have brought him in for questioning. Found out about this.. blowing up the school stuff.."

Jim grimaced, realising that he was right. In the chaos, he'd forgotten all about the school threat. The danger was still there, the threat was still imminent. And tomorrow, they'd have to go straight back out there, right back into the fray. Jim felt ice in his chest at that. To walk that same road, crusted with Devo's blood. To re-enter that town, where his attackers could be waiting. 

"They'll be back."

The Captain's words were quietly confident as he stepped into the tent, and the men immediately made to scramble to their feet, before Sebastian waved a hand. dismissing them. The sight of him made something warm seep, gooey into Jim's stomach, and he swallowed, dropping his eyes to the table, not wanting to give them away.

"..At ease, boys. Someone pass me one of those."

He sat down on the bench, diagonally from Jim, and a hot chocolate was poured for him, the Captain cupping the hot mug in his hands. 

"Have you heard anything, Seb?" Jakey asked, the words almost bursting out of him, obviously dying to ask. The others all leaned forwards, Sebastian smiling a tired smile. Tired for a lot of reasons, Jim thought. Good, and bad. 

"He's stable."

Mugs were slammed down on the table in celebration, cheers going up and the boys slapping each other on the back, hugging briefly, relief thick on their faces, the tent immediately breaking out into conversations, exclamations of relief, discussions of the day, comments on Devo's strength. Dougie pulled Jim into a hard hug, banging his fist on his back, Jim laughing and pulling back, only to be pulled into another by James II. 

"..But he's not out of the woods yet."

The noise died down considerably, those smiles freezing on the men's faces as Sebastian explained, his words careful.

"The arm isn't broken, but it's in a bad way. If they can patch him up well enough, there might be a chance of getting him back in a few days or so. The chest is fine, missed everything.. It's that damned.. arm. If they can't do anything properly, then he'll be sent home."

A beat of silence passed as the men processed this, and then Betsy piped up with a; "..Lucky bastard," and the lot of them were laughing again, though it was a little strained, unhappy with the idea of Devo not coming back. Jim didn't like that idea either. Devo's worst fear was to end up like his brother, home after the war with one leg left in Afghanistan, and wishing that the rest of him was there. Driven mad with thoughts of it. 

He didn't want that for Devo too.

As if hearing his thoughts, green eyes found his own for a split second, and Jim's mouth immediately went dry, his cheeks flushing beetroot, unable to keep a serious thought in his head with Sebastian's gaze on him like that. Remembering just an hour ago, that mouth on his skin, those fingers..

He cleared his throat, and Sebastian quickly looked away, taking a long sip of his hot chocolate before spluttering with a grimace.

"Christ, that's.. disgusting..-"

"It's the best I could find." Ballbag protested with a shrug, and slipped a cigarette between his lips, standing and walking to the tent entrance to light up. Sebastian watched him for a moment, seemingly considering scolding him for smoking, before thinking better of it and speaking seriously, voice a low tone.

"We have to be more on our guard, Neo team. What happened today can't happen again, and I won't lose another man to those bastards. I need you all alert, and I need you on guard. No more turning away when we're walking. By all means, talk, but if you can't talk and scout for threats at the same time, then fucking concentrate and stop gabbing. The town is surrounded by hills, the path is surrounded by hills, and he damned school is surrounded by hills." He jabbed a finger into the table as he spoke, and Jim couldn't help focusing on it, following the skin along his arm, to a thick bicep and muscular shoulder - a bite mark just visible beneath the band of his vest when he moved sometimes. Jim could have squeaked when he noticed it, resisting the urge to swear.

Sebastian continued, oblivious.

"We're going out there as targets, boys, but we can't let them make us into mincemeat. We're better, we're stronger, we have advanced technology. If we find their base, we can clear them out within a few hours. One airstrike, and this town's problems are over. Unfortunately, we're not close enough to make things that easy. They know us now. They know our route. From now on, we'll be taking the tank between the school and town."

"And what about the kids?" Dougie piped up. "If they don't go into school tomorrow?"

"They will." Sebastian said with confidence, nodding once. "I'm trusting our boys to spread the message tonight. The kids will go in tomorrow, and when we show them that it's safe, then they'll keep coming back. No one is getting near that school while a single child is inside it."

"..But.." Jim tried to speak confidently, but couldn't quite reach Sebastian's eyes, his gaze panning around the group instead. "..Can't they just blow up the school building, sir?"

"No. We're beginning night patrols, starting this evening. The Afghan men out at the town at the moment are taking the first. I radioed Hamza in the tent, and he's agreed to have his men take them each night on a rota basis. If they come, we'll be waiting."

Jim nodded, and the Captain tilted his head at him, a slight teasing edge to his voice.

"..Is that okay with you, medic?"

"..Yes, sir." Jim was sure that his damned cheeks were on fire. 

"The rest of you?"

"YES, CAP-TAIN."

"Fall out. Early night. I want you all to get some rest, and be back in fighting shape tomorrow. These fuckers do not take one of our own. We'll take them down."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

-

When everyone else had filed from the mess tent, Jim made a show of hanging around to clear the plates, waving off any help, until only Sebastian remained, a slight smile on his face as he slid his arms around Jim's waist, and kissed him on the mouth. His lips were warm and needing, and Jim melted against him, brushing his fingers over his vest band, on his shoulder.

"I think you need to start wearing t shirts." He pointed out amusedly, and Sebastian pulled a face, trying to look down at the marks.

"..Did you have to leave that on me?"

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"I should ask you to fix it, medic."

The words were wry and amused, and Jim stepped closer, arms sliding tight around the Captain's middle, enjoying holding someone, and being held. He needed it after this day, and for tomorrow. He was already dreading it. Retracing those deadly footsteps.

"You really think we'll be ok?" He asked after a moment, and Sebastian pressed his lips to his forehead, soft.

"..I think we'll do our best."

And it would have to be enough. 

Jim nodded, reluctantly breaking away, the Captain ducking down to steal another kiss, green eyes finding Jim's own for a long moment, an unspoken promise there. 

"Goodnight, Jim."

"..Night Cap-.. Sebastian."

Sebastian smiled tiredly, squeezed his fingers, and then left.

-

It was the middle of the night, and Jim's eyes snapped open, before he was suddenly completely perplexed as to why he was awake, quite sure that it couldn't be six AM, and that he'd only gone to bed about an hour ago. 

He laid on his back for a few seconds, squinting into the darkness before he heard it - the sound unmistakably human, and coming from his left. He sat up abruptly, still peering into the blackness, eyes not yet adjusting as the noise came again, the rasping of a throat. His heart was beginning to pound in his chest, all sorts running through his head. An attack? An animal, maybe? Someone hurt, injured? 

"Hello?"

His own voice was a whisper, and he climbed from his canvas bed, padding uncertainly over towards the sound in his boxers, his hair sticking up at all angles and sleepy bemusement, tinged with apprehension, on his face. At long last, he located one of the lamps in the corner, turning it on to its lowest setting to find Greg sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat and clutching at his chest, his eyes wide and expression contorted in sheer terror.

Jim almost dropped the lamp in his shock, immediately hurrying over and sitting down on the edge of his bed, setting it down and them hovering around him, his whispered words urgent.

"Greg? Greg, God - Jesus - what is it? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"...I... I..." He was flapping trembling hands towards his mouth, and Jim immediately felt around for his canteen, before pressing it into Greg's hands, though he couldn't seem to stop shaking long enough to actually take a drink. His ginger hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and forcing himself out of his midnight stupor, Jim finally recognised the signs of the panic attack. 

"Alright.. alright Greg, you're fine," He whispered, putting a careful hand on his back, the skin clammy and cold. "I'm here. I'm here now, you're just fine. We're all just fine.. I'm going to need you to take a few long breaths alright? Long.. deep breaths for me, okay?"

"Jim?" Dougie's voice was groggy through the dimly lit tent, and Jim glanced over, his friend squinting at him from bed.

"Greg's having a panic attack." He hissed back, and Dougie practically fell out of bed in his urgency to hurry over, hastily rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

"..J.. J..." Greg was seemingly trying to gasp his name, though the syllables caught in his dry throat every time, and Jim pressed that canteen harder into his hands, holding Greg's gaze.

"That's right, it's me. It's Jim. Come on, Greg, take some long breaths for me.. Long.. One, two.. in, out.. take a drink.."

Greg couldn't seem to gather himself enough to follow any instructions and after a moment, Jim slid an arm around his middle, nodding at Dougie to do the same with the other side.

"What are you doing?"

"Help me get him. We're taking him out for air."

"I'm just in my pants."

"For fuck's sake Dougie, nobody cares about your damned pants! He's hyperventilating!"

"Okay, okay!"

Together, they half dragged Greg outside to sit on one of the benches, all three of them just in their underwear, and Greg's teeth chattering, his breathing still erratic - though, Jim noticed with slight relief, helped by being outside. He elbowed Dougie.

"Go and fetch the lamp. And his canteen."

Dougie disappeared, and Jim smiled at Greg, bending down to take his hands.

"Okay Greg.. you listen to me now, alright? I want you to put your head between your knees. And take some long breaths. Long, long breaths."

After a few frozen moments, in which Jim panicked that Greg would be sitting like this, stiff and breathless until the early hours of the damned morning, Greg finally bent down, shakily putting his head between his knees and taking a few long breaths, Dougie returning with the lamp and the canteen, which he'd filled from his own.

"Is he okay?"

"Does he look ok, Dougie?"

Dougie gave him a shove, and Jim rolled his eyes, sitting down beside Greg with the canteen, holding it out lest he want a drink.

"You're alright, Greg. You're alright. Dougie's here, I'm here. You'll be okay. We'll sit with you until it stops.

"I.. S.. sorry..-"

The word was a rasp, desperately ashamed, and Jim rubbed Greg's back, feeling awfully sorry for him.

"No, no no, don't you apologise.. It's fine. It's all fine." He shrugged, glancing up. "It's fine, isn't it Dougie?"

"Yeah. Yeah mate, it's fine. Me and Jim love standing out here in our pants."

"Dougie." Jim chided, but Greg gave a half hearted chuckle, the sound weak but enough to make Jim think that he was breathing a little better. He passed over the canteen, and Greg took it with shaking hands, taking a few long sips and then pausing to give a couple more shaking breaths. 

"..There. That.. any better?" Jim asked gently, and Greg nodded, that rasping calming, his breathing slowly becoming normal. Jim continued rubbing his back, his friend no longer dripping with sweat. 

"..Th.. th.. -thank you.."

Dougie slid an arm around Greg's shoulders too, and ruffled his hair. "No worries mate. Just.. just let someone know, next time yeah?"

"You know you can always talk to me." Jim agreed. "We can go to the med tent, I can take you away - honestly, it's fine.."

"Y.. you can't.. can't tell.. the Captain.."

"..Why not?" Jim asked gently, and Dougie pulled him to one side for a moment, Jim frowning as he stood, taking a few steps from Greg, who was taking small sips from his canteen.

"..Jim, he'll send him home."

"Don't be stupid. It's only one.. it's not even a proper.. it's just a-"

"Panic attack? And what's that a symptom of? You're the medic here."

Jim scowled at his friend for a moment, before sighing, answering reluctantly.

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"You know he had a tour before this. He's obviously struggling."

"That doesn't mean he should-"

"Suppose he was covering Devo's back? Or mine? Or yours?" Dougie asked him with quiet urgency, glancing back at Greg. "He could be dangerous, Jim. It could be bad for him, and bad for us. You've got to take it to the Captain."

"Please.." Greg's voice was a croak, holding out a shaking hand at that last word. "Jim, please.. Please, please, I don't want to go home.. I want to stay, I want to fight. I want to help.."

Jim frowned, walking back over, and squeezing Greg's hand, giving Dougie a long look. His friend's moral compass seemed to deflate, and he shook his head, holding up his hands.

"It's your call."

Jim looked at Greg for a long moment, his eyes bloodshot and desperate, clammy hands squeezing Jim's own tightly. 

"..Please..Jim. I.. need it.."

He glanced back at Dougie, who shook his head infinitesimally, before Jim spoke again, his words quiet.

"..Your secret's safe with me."

-


	10. Juliett

When Jim woke up the next morning - a Thursday, his eyes felt full of sand, grainy and tired from the interrupted sleep. He didn't mind of course.. Greg's health came before his beauty sleep, but as he lay there, listening to the men yawn and rustle around as they prepared to dress for their run, he couldn't help but feel.. angry. And not just angry. Blindingly, terrifically angry that this had happened to them, that two of their men had been hurt by what happened. He laid on his back for a moment, remembering those morose faces at dinner yesterday, and then sat up, getting dressed himself with short, angry movements. 

He stormed from the tent, Skeets and Dougie watching him bemusedly, and stalked straight over into Sebastian's tent and marching inside.

"We have to do something."

The Captain paused, currently wearing just a pair of boxer shorts, holding his trousers in one hand, and his canteen in the other. He arched an eyebrow at Jim, who swallowed, met with the sight of that damned body.. two toned lines of Sebastian's ridged abdomen disappearing into his underwear, the boxers hugging thick thighs. He dragged his eyes back to Sebastian's face.

"..Well good morning to you too.." He purred, stepping closer, sliding a hand to Jim's cheek and leaning down to plant a searing kiss on his lips. Jim allowed it for a moment, and then pulled away breathless, averting his gaze.

"That's not.. I didn't come here for .. that."

"Good job, medic. You've got a run to do."

Jim all but ignored the words, throwing back a hand to gesture towards where his friends were probably gathering outside, ready to start running.

"We have to do something." His voice was firm, urgent. "Yesterday shook everyone up. Shook them up badly. We can increase patrols all we want, but if the men are scared, they're not going to be 'alert' and 'aware', they're going to be fucking terrified. We need to retaliate, we need to show that we mean business. I can't deal with knowing that they almost blasted us all to fucking pieces and then got away scot free. We have to do something."

Sebastian frowned, pursing his lips flat in his concern, his words gentle.

"Is this because of Devo?"

"Of course it is!" Jim near yelled back, the Captain arching an eyebrow coolly in surprise. "..He.. I.. " He took a frustrated breath. "We need to retaliate. Don't.. don't patronise me. I can see you doing it."

"Jim." Sebastian had fallen back into Captain mode, folding his arms over his bare chest. His words were curt. "..Listen. It's perfectly natural to feel angry-"

"Angry? Angry? I'm fucking.. I'm furious!" He was pacing now, his fists clenched. "They've completely fucking blown us apart and now we just stand by and do nothing?"

"Okay, medic." The Captain's words were cool. "What do you suggest?"

"Retaliation!" Jim met those green eyes, swallowing hard. "If we.. if we blow up one of their old houses, one of their bases.. they'll know we mean business. It's a direct-"

"Civilian casualties." Sebastian pointed out simply. "Are you prepared to kill kids just to get at a load of idiots? You realise that makes you no better than them?"

"So we clear the area beforehand-"

"No, Jim."

The words were final, and Jim fell silent, holding Sebastian's gaze. He couldn't help that anger burning through him, hated that deep down, he knew that the Captain was right. 

"But can't we-"

"I said no. That's my final decision."

He bent down, kissed him lightly on the mouth as if to make up for it, but Jim looked away, unable to explain the fury in his chest, the protectiveness he felt for all the men in his damned team. Sebastian ran a thumb over his cheek, his words soft.

"I'm sorry. You're not thinking straight. You're not.. thinking logically."

"They'll pay." Jim said simply, and meant it, the words low and quietly defiant. Warm arms slid around him, and then Sebastian was holding him close for a moment, the anger slowly ekeing out of him until Jim was no longer sure where the outburst had come from. 

"I know."

"..Sorry."

"Don't be."

He stepped back, and then picked up his trousers again, stepping into them, buttoning them and watching Jim carefully.

"I promise you. They won't get away 'scot free'. But I won't hurt innocents to get to them. You don't know what you're asking."

Jim just nodded, a touch sheepish, aware of what he'd asked in the height of his red rage. 

"Go and start your jog."

"Yes, Captain."

"You don't have to call me that in private, you know." Fingers reached out, squeezed his own, and Jim gave a small smile, before ducking out of the tent. He fell into a jog, rejoining the boys as they came running past the mess tent, Dougie asking where he'd been. Jim didn't answer, just elbowed him in the side and ran a little faster. He needed to burn off some steam. 

 

He hadn't felt like this for over ten years. Not since he'd killed his father.

 

-

 

By the end of the run, Jim's chest was heaving, muscles in his legs burning and his heart pounding against his ribs, having run faster and harder than he did usually, overtaking the others at some points, though most tried to keep pace with him, the whole lot of them ending up gasping.

"..Jesus.. Christ.." Dougie rasped, falling beside him on the wall, Jim trying to get his breath back. "What was that about?"

Jim just shrugged, pushed himself off the wall and then headed for the showers, stripping off just as Sebastian slowed to a stop outside, having started running a few laps after them. He watched him rather hungrily, Jim swinging his vest over his shoulder and then sauntering inside, a short smile on his face. The others followed him inside, tossing uniforms on the floor, stripping off and talking loudly as they walked into the cubicles, the Captain coming last, and rather purposely walking into the cubicle beside Jim's. 

Amusedly, Jim tried to act nonchalant, pretending he couldn't see Sebastian watching him as he washed, though he rubbed soap into his skin a little slower than usual, closing his eyes, running his fingers through his hair under the water. He heard the stiff clearing of a throat when he finally left, Sebastian glaring at him rather heatedly, Jim winking before wrapping a towel around his waist and sauntering out again. Now that, was fun.

 

-

 

Jim dressed after his shower back in the tent, watching Greg closely as he sat on the edge of the bed, though he seemed fine now. Fine, if a bit embarrassed. He kept avoiding Jim's eye, and Dougie's too, keeping to himself. It was understandable he supposed, even if he'd never say a bad word about him. He still felt a little anxious over Dougie's warning that he should let Sebastian know. He trusted that Greg could cope. He just.. needed time, that was all. They'd all been shaken.

 

He sat down to breakfast beside Skeets and James II, concentrating on making himself a bacon sandwich - though Jakey soon ran in, holding a wad of letters and parcels.

"POST DAY!" He announced, and then began to toss their mail at them, reading the names impatiently.. "James.. Dougie.. Oscar.. Michael.. who the fuck is-"

"I'm Michael." Betsy answered, rolling his eyes and swiping his parcel from Jakey's hand. Jakey continued, grinning as he found his own letter.

"Mine.. Ali.. Max. Captain's.." He tossed the rest down on the desk, and flicked the final one in Jim's direction. "..Aaaaand, medic."

"We're not going back to calling me 'medic'." Jim quipped, rolling his eyes, abandoning his breakfast in favour of opening his letter, though some of the others had left the tent, obviously preferring a moment of privacy to read messages from their loved ones. Well. Except for Jakey.

"Look at this!" He exclaimed, holding up a painted picture that looked rather like a scribbled mess with arms and stick legs. "Look what she drew for me, Jesus fuck, she's a clever little thing. Three years old, that is. Three."

"It's lovely." Jim answered distractedly, pulling apart his envelope and sliding out the paper inside, thickly cut papyrus paper, and an embossed envelope. Typical mother. Dougie gestured towards the stamp, frowning, already with a mouthful of Haribo sweets from his own package.

"What's that? You royalty or something, Jimbo?"

"Oh yeah, he's a regular Prince Harry." Skeets snorted, still tucking into his breakfast.

"..No letter, Skeets..?" Jim asked, frowning at his friend, who shrugged, chewing a mouthful of bacon.

"Nah. Tell my mum not to send 'em. Just make you wanna go home, don't they. She's not much of a letter writer anyway."

Jim nodded, eyes falling back to his own letter, and his mother's neat hand writing.

'Hello, James

 

I hope you're well. Albert and I are perfectly fine, and are heading down to Cornwall this weekend to use the cottage. I'm rather hoping that it doesn't rain, though he's been keen to explore that new train museum, so perhaps all will not be lost. I was going to send you a few things, but there are an awful lot of guidelines, and I don't think you've ever really been fussed about sweets, anyway. Your medicine degree came in the post, and Albert has had it framed, and put in your old bedroom. You can pick it up when you come by, maybe when you're on leave. Perhaps we can all go for dinner - there's a new Peruvian fusion restaurant on the high street that Laurence from work has been raving about. Workwise, not much to report. I just helped pass a new bill on child protection, so that's fantastic. I'm sure I'll tell you all about it when you get back, but for now, it's all schtum I'm afraid.

I hope you're eating well.  
Write back if you get a chance

Thinking of you.

Mum' 

 

She'd signed underneath, her posh MP signature, and Jim found that amusing on a letter to her own son. Still, he imagined she thought her letter looked bare without it. He could feel Dougie reading over his shoulder and hid the letter away, Dougie sitting back in his seat and laughing.

"Hey, what's she saying that's so secret? About your ten girlfriends back home?"

"Exactly."

"..An MP, hm?"

Jim shrugged, turning the envelope around to show him that post seal, the elegantly pressed 'Margaret McIntyre'. She'd taken Albert's name when they'd married five or so years ago, and was no longer a Moriarty. To his chagrin, Dougie's mouth fell open, which was exactly what he didn't want.

"Dougie, don't-"

"Margaret McIntyre-"

 

He was so fucking loud, and Jim immediately clapped a hand over his friend's mouth, the others all glancing around bemusedly. Jim stood, pulling Dougie half off the bench before he stood, walking him outside, his friend laughing incredulously. He rounded on him when they got outside.

"Why are you so bloody loud?! I don't want anyone to know!"

"Your mum is Margaret McIntyre!"

"Yeah. I do know that." Jim answered, sarcastically.

"She's like the fucking prime minister."

"She's not the Prime Minister."

"..What is she then?"

 

Jim sighed, not having expected Dougie to know this much about politics. Well, perhaps he didn't. Well.. obviously he didn't, if he thought his mum was prime minister. He supposed his mother had garnered enough of a reputation now to be recognised by name. She was quickly becoming known as the 'mother of modern policy', and even the tabloids had started running stories on her. Jim wondered if he should be proud. Most of the time, he was just happy that no one connected them. He wondered if the world even knew she had a son, or had come from an.. abusive home. 

"She's a cabinet minister, but she's being lined up as the next head of the Tory party."

"I knew it. She's the fucking prime minister."

"She's not the-"

"What are you two gossiping about?" Came a low murmur that made Jim's heart thud a little faster, he and Dougie turning and standing to attention.

"CAPTAIN, SIR."

"At ease.."

"Jim's mother sir, she's-"

Jim grabbed Dougie's little finger and twisted it back, his friend immediately doubling over with a shout, pushing Jim to one side, who gave a simpering smile. 

"Dougie's been obscene about my mother." He lied smoothly, deciding that it was believable enough. A slow smile spread across Sebastian's face, amused, and he nodded at Jim, words teasing.

"..Is she hot, then? Your mother?"

"Don't you start too, sir."

The Captain laughed, rolling his eyes and pushing Dougie towards the breakfast tent, Jim's friend glaring at him and nursing his injured finger right up until they sat down again. Sebastian seemed happy to find his own letter and read as they ate, though he only seemed to skim read it, before setting it down. Jim raised an eyebrow at him, and he shot him a look back that was almost challenging, as if daring him to push it while he was in front of the others. 

Jim merely rolled his eyes, smiling and tucking into his breakfast.

 

-

 

Relieved that the talk about his mother had subsided, Jim resolved to send her a letter back later, to write it tonight to be sent off with the Bastion guys that brought the next food delivery. He got on with his day, stuffing the letter underneath his mattress and then joining the others in the tank, trying his damnedest not to feel the tension in the air. They were all unusually quiet, and Greg stared at the tank floor for almost the entire journey, obviously still mortified over what had happened. Jim even tried to flash him a few reassuring smiles, but he wouldn't meet his eye. Dougie gave him a wry smile and shrugged, and they endured the rest of the journey in silence. It was hard to believe that only yesterday, Devo had been with them. Whole.

No speech came before they filed out this time, but they did so morosely, the men holding their guns tightly as if the Taliban would be waiting to leap on them the moment they disembarked the vehicle. The Captain began to make for the school almost immediately, and Jim felt a fluttering of relief at the sound of tiny voices, all jumbled into one cacophony - the sound of school, and learning. Class in session. The Afghan boys had given their promise of safety to the town, then. 

"I want you to fan out." Sebastian ordered, his tone triumphant but firm. "Cover the ground, circle the school. No unidentified person gets within a damned mile of this place, and definitely no cars. I've seen car bombs take out whole teams before, and that's not going to be us. Am I understood?"

"YES, CAP-TAIN."

"Fall out."

Jim began a beeline for Sebastian, but Dougie pulled him the other way, Ali walking with them, his gun held out in front of them as he scouted around the back of the school - immediately terrifying a group of kids who were drawing letters in the sand. 

"Put that down!" Jim hissed, putting a hand on the barrel of the gun, and then smiling apologetically at the teacher, who was hushing the children. He turned to Ali. "We're at a school, Ali! For God's sake!"

"Alright, alright.. I didn't know, did I? Could have been anyone behind there."

Dougie rolled his eyes. "The Taliban are not waiting to jump out at you from every corner, Ali."

"We need to act like they are." Ali countered, the teacher watching them all nervously. Jim smiled at her again, guiding his comrades further out. 

"You're right." He said, trying to calm the damned situation. "You are. But.. just.. be careful. We don't want to get too gun happy."

When Ali had taken a few steps away, Dougie elbowed him in the side, grinning.

"Oh, would you look at that." He mused, "Someone is born to be a leader.. Just like his mummy.."

"I will knock you onto your arse."

"Bring it on, medic."

Jim turned away, grinning, though he caught Sebastian's eye, the Captain giving him a very pointed look from across the dusty schoolyard, an almost 'I told you so' smirk. He stuck up his middle finger after checking that none of the others were looking, and then began to patrol with his gun, looking out into the dusty terrain, to the outskirts of the town, for anything suspicious. Dougie had gone back to patrolling with Ali, and the Captain had stopped, bending down to talk to a group of kids, waggling his fingers at them. 

Jim was too busy watching, amused by the sight, by how much he saw of Sebastian now after being so scared of him that first day. He watched him point at one of the drawings, a child seemingly telling him all about it in excited Pashto, though he was just nodding along, pretending that he-

"Hello."

 

The voice was quietly accented as the woman walked past, Jim glancing across at the teacher and smiling at her, recognising her from a week or so ago. In fact.. in fact, she'd been the one that had brought that little girl to him, covered in bruises. The little girl that.. come to think of it, he hadn't seen whilst they were passing through the school today.. Nor the last day that they were here, and school had been in session. He frowned, the woman already a few feet away, and stepped after her, tapping her hesitantly on the shoulder. When she turned around, cautious, he smiled, waving a hesitant hand.

"Hello.."

He pointed to himself. "Jim." And then to her, raising his eyebrows. "..And.. you?"

She seemed to consider for a moment, and then answered nervously. "Tela. I am Tela."

"Hi, Tela." He was careful to speak slowly, clearly, and she watched him through the burqa, dark eyes uncertain. "The girl..? The little.. girl.." He held his hand at a height in the air, and then mimed cradling her in his arms. "The girl from one week ago? She is not here."

She looked at him a little blankly, and he tried again, gesturing to the school first. "She is not here. The girl. Little girl. Hurt." He pointed at himself, gesturing to where the girl's bruises were the last time he'd seen her. Tela suddenly nodded, seeming to understand.

"Hakeemah." She said softly, and Jim nodded, hoping that she was right.

"Yes. Yes, the little girl. The little.. with the bruises..?"

"Yes. Yes. Hakeemah." She shook her head slowly, unhappily. "No. She is not here."

Jim blinked, waiting for more. 

"..Where is she?"

"She is in the town. She is promised."

"No, no. No she isn't." The words were a touch more panicked now, anxious, Jim not wanting to accept that. She was only seven or eight years old, for God's sake. "No, she can't be. Is it her father? Is he beating her, still?"

"..I do not understand?"

"Her father."

"Yes. Yes, Hakeemah's father. He say no. No to school."

"Why?" Jim asked as exasperatedly, glancing over, eyes finding Sebastian as he laughed, writing his name on a piece of paper for one of the children.

"He say, girls do not need school."

"Is she hurt, Tela?" Jim asked quietly, his eyes finding the teacher's, his words earnest and guilty. He should have done something when he had the chance. She paused for a moment.

"I have only seen her.. one."

"Once? One time?"

"Yes. One time."

Jim frowned, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. "..And was she hurt?"

Tela held his gaze for a while, and then nodded.

"Yes. She was hurt. Her mother, she move her into new house."

 

"..But?" Jim asked, sensing one, dread curling in his stomach.

"But she is still promised."

Jim squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then fiddled with the straps of his med bag, his question almost a plea.

"Can I treat her?" He gestured at his red cross badge. "Medicine? For Hakeemah."

Tela floundered for a moment, and he continued quietly. "..Could you take me to her?"

"Yes."

-


	11. Kilo

At Tela's agreement, Jim felt the warmth of hope burn fiercely in his chest. It didn't matter about this morning, about the Captain shooting down his ideas, his angry demands for retaliation. It didn't matter. If he could help anyone, help even this one little girl, then it would be worth it. Even if just a salve for those bruises, to suture a few cuts.. anything was better than nothing. To.. supply her mother with everything she needed to look after her, to give her a pen and a book of her own, if she couldn't go to school.

He didn't have to feel so damned helpless, after what had happened to Devo.

He gave Tela's hands a squeeze, and then hurried over to Sebastian, standing to attention as he waited for him to finish speaking to the children, until he'd straightened and turned to Jim, the word "..Medic?" a little softer on his lips, if amused.

"I can help." Jim said immediately, rather excited in his determination, shifting his med bag on his shoulders. "Tela knows where that little girl is. You know the one with the bruises? She hasn't been in, but Tela's offered to take-"

"Who's Tela?" Sebastian interrupted brusquely, holding up a hand, and Jim glanced back at the teacher in her burqa, standing rather nervously as she watched them. 

"The teacher. The one that brought her over to me, about a week ago. She was bad then, but I really think she's in danger now."

He shook his head, dancing from foot to foot anxiously, ready to go, to set off for the town right this second. The Captain was frowning at him, but Jim was still talking at a mile a minute, already way ahead of himself. "I want to make sure that she's eating right, that they have enough fluids - I'll make sure the mother has bandages and butterfly stitches, just in case-"

"Jim." The Captain's voice was firm, unyielding. Those green eyes were hard, if a touch apologetic. "..It's absolutely out of the question."

Jim blinked for a few long moments, before that anger began to settle in his chest again, that same hopelessness. "You can't be serious."

"I can, and I am. You're talking about going alone into the town - through the hillside, by the way," He gave him a pointed look, "To get involved in a family drama that you know nothing about, nor have any right to be involved in."

"Sebastian, I can help-"

"That's Captain."

Jim gritted his teeth.

"Captain. I can help her. If I don't, she won't even make it long enough to be promised away."

 

"Unfortunately, that isn't our concern." The words were so flat, so unfeeling.. Jim shook his head, appalled, taking a step back. 

"Isn't our..? We're supposed to protect them!"

The heated talk was attracting glances from their comrades, a fact that Sebastian seemed to be very conscious about, squaring up to Jim and speaking down to him, his words a low growl. 

"Medic, you will fall in line and you will do exactly as I tell you."

"Your little show won't work on me now." Jim hissed, rage in his chest. He just wanted to help one person. One damned person, when he was so fucking helpless to take care of his own team. He could treat her. He could make sure she had everything she needed. He tried his best to calm himself, taking a step back, away from the Captain, trying to speak measuredly.

"All I'm saying, sir, is that I can do something here. I can-"

"You can't go alone. And I can't spare a single man. It's out of the question."

"Sebastian-"

"No, Jim."

 

There was no kiss to soften the blow this time, only curt, final words. Resisting the urge to scream and shout, to lash out in his uselessness and anger, Jim merely nodded once, keeping his expression composed, and turning to walk away from him, though he felt the Captain's eyes on him as he went, disappointment thick in his chest - but determination searing hotter. 

Dougie intersected his walk back to Tela, putting his hands on his shoulders, and frowning at him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Get off."

"Really? Cause you look like you're going to kill someone."  
"Wouldn't be the first time." Jim muttered, and Dougie let him go, frowning as he watched him return to Tela, swinging his med bag off and crouching down in the dust. He kept his back to Sebastian as he took out a couple of rolls of bandages, a box of butterfly stitches, some antiseptic liquid, fumbling with them for a few long moments at his chest before he passed them over, Tela taking them in her arms, and nodding, seemingly understanding what she was to do. 

And then he stalked off with his gun, back on guard, feeling Sebastian watching him still, and not caring. This whole fucking-the-Captain thing was already becoming difficult. He couldn't get close to someone, couldn't rely on them, when they were simultaneously his Boss.

When he finally did glance back at the Captain, Sebastian's gaze was apologetic, and after a long moment, he gave a small smile. Jim considered what he was going to do for a long few moments, the first flutterings of guilt settling in his chest. They weren't enough to deter him, though. Not even close. That determination burned hot in his stomach.

He returned that smile, but then turned away.

When Tela walked past him again, she touched his arm and said a timid "Okay", and Jim nodded, thanking her. She knew what she needed to do, then.

In the moments when he'd fumbled with his bandages, Jim had actually been writing along them with his pen. Giving a time, a place, asking her to meet him there, to take him to Hakeemah. He'd see her and he'd help her, no matter what Sebastian said, and make one life, if only one life, better here. He was a medic, and he'd be damned if he couldn't be useful in one way or another. Watching his comrades crumble to pieces in front of his eyes was unbearable. To help someone. Anyone. And the Captain would not stop him.

At midnight tonight, it was show time.

She'd meet him by the town.

 

\--

Jim was antsy for the rest of the patrol, walking throughout the town and wondering which of the houses belonged to Hakeemah's family, if she was inside one of them, half starved to death or bruised beyond recognition. No child should have to go through that. Jim had experienced abuse, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. Hell, this was personal now, and he couldn't sit back and let a young life end. No matter what the Captain said.

"You're quiet." Sebastian commented over dinner, having managed to nonchalantly grab the space beside Jim's own. He'd smiled, shrugged and squeezed his hand beneath the table, just to show that they were okay, that the argument out by the school hadn't affected anything. 

"He's always quiet." Dougie scoffed, "He's only loud when he's fucking whining about something, aren't you Jimbo?"

"Do you want a black eye?" Jim asked with a simpering smile, and Dougie grinned at him.

"Oh, are you going to give me one?" 

Sebastian interjected, his voice cool and cutting. 

"No, but I will."

A kind of hushed silence fell over the table, and a few of the boys sniggered or turned to watch, Dougie blinking at Sebastian before replying "..Yes Captain," in a disgruntled, if rather surprised mutter.

Jim laughed, his cheeks hot, Sebastian wearing a rather smug lopsided smirk as he set down his cutlery. Jim took his chance, extricating himself from the table and bench, and heading into the kitchen area, calling behind him. 

"..Does anyone want a coke?"

Every damned man in the tent answered that he did, as Jim had well expected. Free service was taken where it could be gotten, and Jim was guilty of the same - it was nice to have something brought to you, be it dinner, a cup of tea or even a jacket from across the room. He felt a little guilty though, when he received a round of thank yous, doling out the cups of soft drink to his grateful comrades.

Well. They weren't to know that half a sleeping tablet fizzed away at the bottom of each one.

-

Realistically, half a sleeping tablet was nothing. Virtually undetectable which was great, and not strong enough to knock them out properly, which might arouse suspicion. No - just enough to prompt a few long yawns, a few announcements of early nights, and indeed, the men were in bed by 10pm, a check of the tent letting Jim know that they were all fast off. 

Well. Not all of them, unfortunately. Ballbag - Oscar - and Max were on guard at the gates, the Afghan men on the new night patrols, though Jim hadn't been able to selectively exclude their drinks. From what he'd seen, walking past, Max was on his third coffee, and Ball bag was yawning. He felt a little guilty about that, but had a plan for later. He couldn't leave the gate unguarded. He'd just have to.. slip past. 

After checking on his comrades, he headed into Sebastian's tent, the Captain wearing just his underwear and looking positively beautiful, laying back on the pillows and watching Jim, though he too was yawning, and Jim smiled, crawling into bed with him. 

"Medic." He greeted sleepily, skin of his chest hot against Jim's t shirt, stripping down to just that and his boxers, but not undressing completely. "I'm.. fucking exhausted tonight."

" It's been a long week." Jim agreed quietly, and pressed a kiss to his lips, Sebastian sliding a hand into his hair to return it, before he spoke, quiet and sleepy in his apology. 

"I'm.. sorry about today."

Guilt spiked in Jim's chest, and he dropped his gaze. This wasn't what he needed to hear right now, not if he was going to go through with this.

"I know you had her best interests at heart. I know you want to help. I wish I could, you know that.."

"I know." Jim agreed softly, feeling like the worst person in the damned world, laying against the Captain's chest as he combed his fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes. 

"I.. have to think about the good of the team. I can't.. put them in danger just for one little girl. Who would protect the other kids?".

"Its okay, Sebastian." Jim promised, dragging his hand down to his mouth, and slowly kissing his fingertips. "I understand. I promise."

"And I was harsh with you in front of the men." Sebastian recalled morosely, Jim just sighing. He interrupted him before he could apologise for that, too.

"I know you have to be. I can't get special treatment."

"It kills me to talk to you like that. Do you know that?" The words were hollow, unhappy, and Jim kissed his lover on the cheek, shaking his head. 

"You did the right thing." He said quietly, semi-honestly. He cuddled closer, gave a false yawn of his own and closed his eyes. 

"Now can we go to sleep, 'captain'?"

"Don't you want to-?"

"Not sure I can keep my eyes open long enough.." Jim lied, and then fell silent, pretending to drop off. He didn't need to, it turned out; when he opened one eye to glance at the Captain, he was snoring softly, fast asleep beside him, arms still curled around Jim.

Jim lay still for a long few moments, and just watched him sleep. If everything went to plan, he'd never find out that he'd even slipped away. He could be back before dawn broke, and crawl back into his arms. Wake up together, though the run would likely kill him. Still. He could make it through. Hakeemah needed him. He sat up slowly, and then when he was sure that Sebastian was asleep, got dressed again, silent as possible.

Jim watched his sleeping Captain for a few more long moments, before he kissed him on the forehead, apologised quietly, and then hurried from the tent.

He headed straight for his med tent, having used it as a kind of hide out. He dressed properly in his full field gear and helmet, laced his boots and gathered the mine detector and enough supplies to treat Hakeemah and keep her mother stocked up. He added a book and a few pens too, hopefully to give her the chance of some sort of education, even if she couldn't get to school. The mine detector was cumbersome, but he couldn't resist going out there without it. It would be a stupid man's move to go and get blown up by a mine in the middle of the night, and he'd not only have destroyed the team's only medic, but perfectly good med equipment. And Hakeemah wouldn't have a chance.

Zipped, packed and ready, he stood with his heart beating hard in his chest, staring out at the dimly lit compound. Outside of these walls, it was pitch black, and he hesitantly added a hand lamp to his increasingly heavy stash. His gaze settled on his friends at the gate, trying to discern the best moment to sneak out. It was difficult - but he'd always had a talent for reading people, and Ballbag had been pacing agitatedly for around ten minutes now, which meant that he was ready for another cigarette. Each time, Jim had noticed, he walked away to smoke, seemingly not wanting to affect anyone else with his bad choices. That was what Jim was waiting for. 

The minutes seemed to tick past like hours, a bead of sweat running down Jim's neck and into his uniform, his eyes fixed on the gate. He began to edge closer when he could, though was carrying too much to be stealthy, certainly to run for the gates. He hated standing still like this, waiting, static, unable to get going. It gave him time to really think about this, to think about all that could go wrong, and the thousand things that could happen to him out there. Suppose he got kidnapped by the Taliban? Or alone and shot dead in the hillside? Or blown up by a mine, despite having the detector with him?

At long last, the break came. And it was about time. Jim was almost ready to drop his things and go and hide under his damned canvas bed.

Max, fast asleep against the wall until Ballbag elbowed him awake, didn't seem to care about his friend going for another cigarette. He waved him away irritably, Oscar laughing at him as he lit up and strode away - and then immediately fell back to sleep, head resting against the dusty stone. 

Jim didn't think he'd ever been so nervous, nor so damned determined, come to that. Trying his damnedest not to let anything in his bag or hands rattle, he hurried for the gates, heart in his mouth as he hid behind wall after wall, building after building, and then finally, silently, tiptoed past Max. He slipped out and through the gates, terrified when he reached the open air that he'd been spotted, that Max would suddenly call him back, confused, would alert Ballbag to his presence and it would all go to hell.

No call came. 

Jim's heart raced, turning to hurriedly start walking, though he soon realised that he was in pitch blackness the further he got away from the base. He had his route memorised in his mind, though it was ten times harder in the dark, unable to use the lamp until he was far enough away not to be spotted from the compound. He waved the detector across the ground before he walked, proving useful not only for mines, but for bigger rocks or plants that might have tripped him. 

He walked as quickly as possible, keen to get as quickly away as possible and to be able to use his light, as well as to meet Tela ontime at midnight. It would take a fair while to walk to the town, even if the tank had been slow, and he was.. frightened, that he might not even make it there. Guilt attacked him in pangs as he got further and further out, remembering Sebastian's arms around him, his quiet apologies.. the men all trusting him at the table, happy with their spiked drinks. That had been a very low move on his part, though he'd been desperate. He'd considered using a whole tablet each, or even a couple. 

He needed to do this. To prove something to himself, and to help a little girl who was so desperately in need. He needed to help someone, to make a difference. Maybe if the townspeople saw that he was trying to help them, that he was working so hard with one of their own, they'd finally accept their protection, and trust them with their school and their markets. This trip had to be worth the trouble. He had to find Hakeemah.

A mile or so away from base, he turned on the lamp. 

He could do this.


	12. Lima

Jim was almost two miles from the base, and another three quarters of a mile from the town, when he heard the sound behind him that put ice into his chest. He'd been walking now for about thirty minutes, making terrible time, having to be ridiculously slow in order to be safe, to scan the ground with his mine detector, and light the way with the damned lamp. He'd been trying to speed up a little, was concentrating on not being late for the midnight meeting, lest Tela just give up and go home instead. A roaring in his ears had accompanied him for most of the way, imagining that he was being followed by the Taliban, that he was seconds away from being blown to bits by a mine. Hell, he'd never been so damned frightened in his life.

 

The sound was a scuffle behind him, and he spun around, lamp and mine detector clacking together, his voice ringing out shrilly in the night.

"Who's there?"

"Ow - fuck-"

The reply was a muffled exclamation, and Jim frowned, holding the lamp a little higher, the glow falling on his sheepish friend's face.

"Dougie?" Jim's voice was incredulous, and then instantly angry. "What the fuck are you doing out here?"

"Me?" He hopped up, brushing off his uniform, seemingly having tripped over a rock or similar. Hell, he could have been stepping on mines all the damned way! "..What are you doing out here?!"

"Did you follow me the entire fucking way?" Jim hissed, and then clapped a hand to his forehead, thinking about just how bad it could have been. "You could have gotten me caught.. you could have.. gotten yourself killed.."

"Jim." Dougie said, holding out his arms. "What the hell, are you doing?"

"How did you find me?!" Jim asked, the both of them hissing back and forth, still trying to be quiet in the pitch blackness.

"I followed you. I know what you did, Jesus Christ. The Captain had my coke at dinner."

Well, that explained why Sebastian had been so tired. 

Jim scowled. "You were asleep when I last checked."

"I was pretending. Knew you were up to something." Dougie grinned, pulling Jim into a headlock and ruffling his hair. "Jesus Christ, you mental-"

Jim pulled away roughly, and held out a hand. "Okay! Enough! For God's sake, if you're going to stay, you have to keep quiet. And alert. I will not have you fucking killed. Though, if you do get killed, it's your own damn fault for following me." Fuck, this was not the way it was supposed to be. One person might slip by unnoticed, but two?

"How the hell did you get past Max?"

Dougie shrugged. "He was asleep against the wall."

"..Fuck."

"You did drug everyone, Jim. Worst medic in.. history.."

"Oscar won't fall asleep. He's fine. He's been keeping Max awake."

"Yeah, when he's not off smoking himself to an early grave."

"Look, are we doing this or not?" Jim hissed, jabbing a hand into the darkness. "Because if I don't get to that damned town in the next ten minutes, Tela won't show me where Hakeemah is, and then she'll never get any of these damned supplies!"

Dougie looked back at him blankly, and Jim sighed in frustation, pushing the mine detector at him. 

"You can scan. Go on, walk ahead."

Dougie rolled his eyes, Jim holding up the lamp as they headed on, exasperated with the situation but not able to do anything about it. Even if he wanted to send Dougie back to base, it was too dangerous without the mine detector, and he didn't have time to escort him. Jesus Christ, this had the potential to go bad. And though it was the least of his worries, he knew Sebastian would hate it just that little more, knowing that Dougie had been with him. Even if he was totally wrong about that. 

"You don't seem very happy to see me."

"Just shut up and walk, butter balls."

 

-

 

The rest of the journey was perhaps a little more bearable than the start, Jim feeling a little safer with two of them, though he'd never admit that to his friend. Dougie walked ahead with the detector, humming the theme tune to Strictly Come Dancing, and seemingly not fussed at all at breaking every bloody rule in the book, and risking their lives for one of the townspeople. 

It seemed that only with another person to be responsible for, Jim was now coming around to Sebastian's way of thinking. And it was far too late to turn back. 

At long last, they finally arrived at the outskirts of the town, lit dimly in the blackness by lamps and whatever minimal electricity the townspeople had. Jim stuck close to his friend, still sweeping for mines as they approached the figure in the burqa, Tela stepping forwards nervously, though she clasped Jim's hands when he got near enough.

"Thank you." She said. "For helping us."

Jim just nodded, a touch sheepish, glancing nervously towards the town. He hadn't even considered how they might be received. Not all of the townspeople were in favour of their being there, after all. Dougie shifted his gun a little in his arms, and Jim was suddenly pleased that he'd come along. With his lamp, the mine detector and his med kit to carry, he hadn't even thought to bring a weapon.

"It's no bother, Tela. Can you take us to her? This is Dougie."

She nodded nervously at Dougie, who smiled, and then turned to lead them into the town, Jim turning off the detector for now, but keeping the lamp aloft. Curious faces peered out at them from glassless windows, and men stood, arms folded in the street as they passed, their looks on a scale between hostile and resigned. The walk was short, but Jim was sweating, probably from nerves than anything else, whispering for Dougie to 'stay close', his friend shifting his gun closer and murmuring back.

"..I got your back, Jimbo. I'm not explaining to Margaret McIntyre how her son ended up in a body bag.."

"Stop talking about my mother. It's not a big deal."

"It kind of is, though."

"Your mother's a dentist, and mine's a politician, so what?"

"She's a dental nurse. And she's not in the papers!"

"We are here." Tela's voice was quiet, and her knocks on a broken door, patched with fabrics, even quieter. They stood waiting for a few moments, Dougie and Jim falling into silence. A few long moments passed, and for a second, Jim thought that they might have had a wasted journey - that Hakeemah's mother or father wouldn't allow him to see her, that they'd risked their lives for nothing - until the door opened, and a woman in another burqa appeared, looking at them suspiciously. 

Tela said something to her in hushed Pashto, and after a moment, the door was opened wide, and both stepped aside to let them in. Jim stepped into what could only barely be called a 'house' from the walls and tiles on the floor, a bare stove in the corner and a curtain hiding a toilet, mattresses on the floor in the centre. Huddled on the mattress and swaddled in a blanket was Hakeemah, and he hurried over, bending down to hold out a hand, hoping that she remembered him.

"Hello, Hakeemah.." He said softly, and that little hand reached out, finding his own and shaking it, just like that first day. His eyes assessed her new bruises, a cut along her cheek, her body somehow even smaller and more frail than when they'd first met. With a small, reassuring smile, he took off his med bag and began to get to work.

 

-

Jim didn't say a word to anyone else for a good forty minutes, just concentrating on treating the little girl. He sutured the cut on her cheek, soothing her as he did, though she probably didn't understand the words 'brave' or 'proud'. Tela sat by them, translating quietly, and soon Hakeemah relaxed around him a little, allowing him to dab a salve on her bruises, and bandage her poor little feet, Tela translating for her mother when she told him that she couldn't yet afford a new pair of shoes. Dougie had immediately emptied his pockets at that, dumping out a few coins that they'd won from the Afghan boys at the base, playing poker. Ashan was a terrible hand. 

When finally satisfied, Jim had spoken to the mother himself, Tela translating again, leaving her a small pot of the salve, some butterfly stitches in lieu of the proper sutures, and a roll of bandage and antiseptic fluid. He too emptied his pockets, but was unable to give even half of what Dougie had, not exactly a talented poker player himself. 

Amidst her tearful thankyous, a group of agitated male voices seemed to descend upon the house, audible through the glassless windows and what was left of the door. Dougie immediately stood with his gun, Jim standing back in front of Hakeemah, who was asleep in her mother's arms on the mattress. Tela hurried to the door, speaking in angry Pashto to the men and gesturing wildly, though the voices if anything only got angrier, a couple of men trying to push past her. Without Tela beside them, Jim couldn't understand a word they were saying.. only caught that one name, amidst the foreign words, the angered discussion.

 

Sadaf.

Dougie's eyes found Jim's, the both of them wide-eyed for a second, and Jim god damn wishing he had a gun.

"Sadaf," Dougie whispered, "Is he here?"

"I don't know!" Jim hissed back, "I don't know who he is any more than you do!"

His heart had begun to thud, suddenly aware that even if they weren't close to a Taliban leader, they were close to those who knew him. This could be something. This could be a tip off. Tela and Hakeemah's mother obviously knew these men, even if they didn't know.. him. 

Hakeemah's mother called something from the mattress, and Tela quietened, stepping back to let one of the men inside, who walked in with a large tray of steaming rice and meat, only to freeze when he spotted Jim and Dougie, both of them standing shock still, Dougie's fingers tightening on his gun. The man was bigger than both of them, bearded though his hair was short at the top, a gun hanging from a belt around a long robe. Nobody made a move for a moment, and then the man barked something at Hakeemah's mother, who shot back something that sounded just as vicious. She gestured to Hakeemah's bandaging, the school book and pen that she held, and then after a moment, the man grimaced, and spat at Jim's shoes. He tossed the tray of food onto the floor and stormed from the house again, exclaiming angrily as he did.

 

"Hakeemah's father?" Jim asked quietly, and Tela nodded, Hakeemah's mother holding the sleeping girl close, somehow not woken by the noise. She was probably too weak. Tela picked up the tray, trying to salvage some of the food, though she and Hakeemah's mother stilled when a call rang out, an enraged yell from the man that had just stormed out. 

"SADAF! SADAF!"

All at once, everything was chaos.

Tela and Hakeemah's mother both ran at them, speaking in fast, panicked Pashto, pushing them out, Tela finally screaming at them that they had to run, they had to leave. That call was still booming out, and Dougie looked at Jim, a deer caught in headlights, and then they were running together from the town, pausing only long enough to grab the mine detector and the lamp. Dougie had abandoned his gun, and took the lamp, the both of them running full pelt out of there, angry, loud voices - the voices of men, now following them through the dust.

"Shit.. shit, shit-"

"Sadaf, that's him,that's-"

"Fucking Taliban!"

"-the attack on the school-"

"Jesus Christ, are they following us?"

They were running blindly back towards the base, two or three miles and an easy hour and a half if walking carefully, but they had no time for walking carefully, not if they wanted to make it back alive. Jim's heart was pounding as he ran two feet ahead, swinging the mine detector across the ground wildly, unable to see really where he was going, only able to hear Dougie behind him, gasps of exertion and soft, panicked curses every so often. He could only hear that damned roaring in his ears again after a while, running blindly through the darkness, his muscles trembling and his legs aching, thanking God that he'd been running every day, or he'd not even have made it this far. For all he knew, they'd be shot down at any second, too damn panicked to look behind them, to pause for even a moment to check - and at long last, without even a second's break from running, they arrived back at the gates of the compound.

 

His lungs on fire and his body aching to high heaven, Jim finally stopped, resting his hands on his knees and breathing hard, Max and Ballbag standing and looking at them with their mouths open, utterly struck dumb. 

"Well.." Dougie said after a moment, still panting, the two of them utterly dripping with sweat. "..You gonna.. let us in.. or what?"

The two of them stood aside, still blinking at them in bemusement as they hurried inside, Jim holding out a hand, his voice pleading and breathless.

"Please, for God's sake - don't tell the Captain.."

"Jim.. where the hell have you been?"

"How did you get out?" Max asked numbly, and Dougie ruffled his hair with a half grin.

"You were asleep, matey. Think it's best that we all keep quiet, don't you? Or it's on all of our heads."

Oscar was frowning, shaking his head, putting another cigarette between his lips. "Fucking hell, I don't like this."

"Tough." Jim said, and looked at all three of them, adrenaline still pounding through his veins. "We keep quiet. And that's that."

-

 

Jim's hands didn't stop trembling until after he'd climbed into bed, laying there in the darkness for a long few moments. After ensuring Max and Ballbag would stay quiet, he'd headed for the showers, Dougie joining him after a minute, though he headed to the furthest cubicle away, Jim rather grateful for the thought. He was too exhausted to be embarrassed now, his mind too fraught. He was deep in anxious thought all the way back to the tent, and then lay there, just staring up at the khaki.

They had to tell Sebastian. There was no way around it. He had intel now, knew about Sadaf, or at least knew someone who knew him. Suppose they could bring Hakeemah's father in for questioning? Have him lead them straight to Sadaf, take out a Taliban group? It would be incredible. It would be progress, real progress.. 

 

But they'd have to tell him that they'd gone in the first place, and Jim just couldn't figure out a way to do it that wasn't completely damning. Of course, he'd leave out the bit with the sleeping pills. And he'd promise that he had no idea that Dougie was following him, though hell, he was glad that he had. If Dougie hadn't been standing in that house, fully armed.. Jim might have been killed there and then. Or kidnapped.. Still, he couldn't think of a way that wouldn't make the Captain both hate him, and maybe even force him to be sacked as a medic. Dishonourable discharge from the army. Jim frowned at the thought. That definitely wasn't what he wanted. He had a family here. Real family. Not like being at home with his mother and Albert, the prodigal son, his mother forever stiff and cold with him after what he'd done to his father, unless they were in public.

 

He had a home, here.

"Hey."

Dougie's voice was quiet as he sat down on the edge of Jim's bed, and Jim closed his eyes, breathing a long breath through his nose.

"I know you're not asleep. How could you be, after that?"

He opened his eyes, and frowned up at his friend, before sitting up, rubbing at his eyes in the darkness. He didn't say anything for a long few moments, and neither did Dougie. When he did at long last, it wasn't what Jim had been expecting - a demand that they tell the Captain, maybe, or a funny quip about the whole thing. 

"..You went through all that, just to treat a little girl's bruises?"

The words were soft, and Jim blinked back bemusedly for a moment, before shrugging. "..She needed help." He admitted, looking down at his hands. "And I could help. What else was I supposed to do?"

"..Was it because of Devo? And Greg?"

Jim pursed his lips, looked away for a moment. "..Of course it was. I felt.. helpless. Useless."

"You're not useless, Jim. You brought Greg back from the brink. And you saved Devo's life!"

Jim shook his head, frustrated. "It's not.. I didn't.. You make me sound like some kind of hero-"

"You kind of are." Dougie laughed, and then glanced around, not wanting to wake the others. "You are. Out of all of us. You really are."

It was different than a 'monster', which was what Jim had always taken himself to be, after his father. The way his mother looked at him sometimes when that warm facade had fallen away.. He swallowed, and forced a smile, still not liking the word.

"You should get some sleep, Dougie. We have to run in the morning."

"I'm not finished."

Jim rolled his eyes, a touch of amusement in his tired resignation. "You've already told me I'm a God. What more is there to say?"

His friend licked his lips, seemingly on the precipice of saying something long before he finally said it. Hazel eyes found Jim's own, and he frowned, Dougie's words impossibly soft.

"..I like you."

If it were daylight, if they weren't whispering back and forth in a tent of their sleeping friends.. If he knew about Sebastian, maybe.. then Jim might have hoped that he'd misconstrued Dougie's meaning. But there was no way to misconstrue that. Not the way he was looking at him. Like he was Michelangelo's David, or something, or had just rescued a bunch of children from a burning house. 

"You don't mean that." Jim said, his chest aching a little, forcing a quiet laugh. "Come on Dougie, don't be an idiot."

"I do mean it." Dougie said, as serious as Jim had ever seen him, his friend no longer stuffing his face with toast, or messing around, taking the piss. He was.. Oh.. fuck, he really meant it. Jim swallowed, stilling as Dougie's fingers came to rest, tentatively on his cheek. "I'm not.. I mean.. I haven't felt like this before. Not about a girl. Definitely not about a.. guy.. but.." He shook his head, his fingers warm, ghosting lightly over Jim's skin. 

"Dougie, please don't.."

"You're really something special."

He leaned in, and Jim was ready to bolt - before that kiss came, chastely to his cheek, and he blushed beetroot in return. His mouth dry, he just nodded, and then pulled back a little, climbing beneath the sheets. His mind was a mess. Of course, he valued Dougie as a best friend, as closer than that maybe, but never.. not.. well, he'd not even considered.. that. The relief of having him with him tonight, for potentially saving his life, was thick in his chest, but that didn't mean.. 

"I need to sleep now, Dougie. It's been a hell of a long day."

"Yeah.. yeah, I know."

He stood slowly, the canvas bed creaking, and gave Jim a small smile, a little sheepish. Jim gave a hesitant smile in return, and then turned onto his side, wide awake as he stared at the khaki. He listened to his friend pad back to his bed.

Now he was in trouble.

 

-


	13. Mike

When Jim awoke the next morning, he was aware of hands on his arms, and instantly cringed away, anxious that it was either Dougie again, or Sebastian this time, not particularly wanting to see either of them at this moment in time. Blinking blearily, he came to focus on Max' face instead, his expression sheepish, Jim instantly suspicious, pushing him away. 

"Jim-"

"What have you done?" His voice was hoarse with sleep, slightly resigned as he sat up in bed, Max frowning apologetically. 

"I.. I thought maybe if we told him sooner rather than later.." He began, his expression both desperately hopeful and sheepish, standing back a step and averting his gaze. "We wouldn't get in so much trouble. I mean, I wasn't the one breaking the rules-"

"Sebastian." Jim said flatly, sudden panic fluttering in his chest, hissing angrily in the early morning darkness, a hand shooting out to grab at the front of Max' t shirt. "You told Sebastian?!"

"It was the best thing to do, Jim.." Max whined, pulling away, though Jim was gritting his teeth, letting him go, hurrying to pull on his clothes. He needed to get to Sebastian to- 

Hold on a second. Hold on - Max didn't actually.. know anything. Not really.

He straightened slowly, turning to look at him with his anger suppressed for a moment, more bemused than anything. 

"..What could you have possibly have told him?"

Max blinked at him for a moment, and then said, like it was the simplest thing in the world;

"I told him I caught you and Dougie-"

"Caught us? Nobody caught us! You make it sound like-"

"-Sneaking back into the compound, and that you were all sweaty and stuff.."

All sweaty. Sneaking back. Caught them. 

Something icy slipped into Jim's chest at the realisation of what Sebastian would think. At how betrayed he would feel, the little tryst against the.. damned wall of the compound, or something. Oh God, it was fucking ridiculous. 

"Max, you idiot." Jim groaned, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment, before hurrying to pull on his boots, hopping around the tent. The others were just beginning to stir, squinting at them through the early morning darkness, asking in throaty voices what they were doing. "I need to go and talk to him, he's going to totally fucking flip out if he thinks-"

"NEO TEAM."

The Captain's voice was loud and harsh, and he stalked into the tent, whipping aside the flap of the door, the men all scrambling to their feet with sleepy, disjointed "YES, CAPTAIN"s. Jim, still hopping around in one boot, almost staggered over in surprise, quickly pulling on the other boot and standing to attention. Green eyes, scarily cold with fury, came to settle on him, and he swallowed, his mouth instantly dry.

"Sebastian-" The word was desperate, quietly uttered, and the Captain rounded on him immediately, taking a step towards him, Jim quieting in an instant. 

"DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO INTERRUPT ME, MEDIC?"

Jim winced, the words yelled in his face, feeling the eyes of all of the others on him. "..No C-"

"DO YOU THINK THAT YOU'RE BETTER THAN EVERY MAN IN HERE, MEDIC?"

"N-"

"WORTH MORE THAN THEM?"

"Sir-"

"SO WOULD YOU MIND TELLING ME, WHY YOU AND DOUGIE 'SLIPPED' OUT LAST NIGHT, COMPLETELY UNPROTECTED AND RISKING YOUR LIVES?"

"Seb," Jim tried, the words dying in his throat, cheeks fiery hot and his eyes dropping to the khaki.

"YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS CAPTAIN, MEDIC."

"Yes C-"

"AND YOU WILL LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU."

Jim met his gaze somewhat desperately, trying to tell him that it wasn't what he thought, that it wasn't that - but he could only read fury and hurt in his Captain's eyes, his words urgent.

"I can explain-"

"AND YOU WILL EXPLAIN. AFTER YOUR RUN."

"...Yes Captain."

Sebastian turned, jabbing a finger at Dougie, his eyes glittering with malice, words low and furious. 

"You. Get outside, now." He glanced at Neo Team, all watching dumbstruck, looking between Jim and Dougie. "All of you. Start fucking running."

Green eyes settled back on Jim for a moment, cold and hard. 

"Dougie and the medic will run an extra fifty laps today."

And with that, he stalked from the tent, leaving Jim with a lump in his throat, and the others swearing quietly, obviously not envying them of that punishment. Jim wasn't sure he could survive that. Not with so little sleep last night, and on top of their usual fifty. He needed to explain. Needed to fix things, give Sebastian the intel that would make it all better.. 

He strode from the tent hurriedly, spotting the Captain heading back for his own tent, ready to make for him when a hand closed around his own, giving a squeeze. Glancing back, Jim found Dougie smiling at him amusedly, his fingers warm around his own.

"Don't worry," He said, just as Sebastian turned around, spotting the two of them together. Their hands. Jim's heart plummeted into his stomach, Dougie still reassuring him. . "We can make it. Bring it on, right? It was worth it. For Hakeemah."

"For Hakeemah." Jim repeated hollowly, and pulled his hand away, eyes on the Captain's tent. He'd already stalked inside, disgusted.

-

Forty five minutes later, and he was dying. He'd liked to have say that he didn't mean literally, but he might as well have. After two runs yesterday - one in the morning, and one back from the town, and fifty laps already this morning, the extra fifty were killing him, pure and simple.

Coated in sweat, he ran beside Dougie, the other boys already having disappeared to the showers. His legs burned, his muscles ached, and he felt dizzy and weak, not helped by his overexertion and lack of sleep last night. Dougie seemed very much the same, his t shirt stuck to his chest, breathing hard as he ran alongside him, occasionally glancing at him or gasping out some garbled motivational words. They'd been running now for an extra twenty minutes, and Sebastian sat on a little deckchair, tapping his fingers lazily on the wooden arm as he watched them, fury still written in the set of his jaw. Jim had tried catching his eye at first, tried apologising that way, tried to communicate an urgent need to talk.. 

He'd long since given up. The Captain wouldn't look at him, only through him, and so he'd focused on the pain instead, the terrible exhaustion that took him right back to his first day here - only now it was a thousand times more intense. 

But he'd keep pushing on. Because the Captain had fucking ordered it, and was too pigheaded to listen to anything anyone else said. Hell. Maybe if he died out here in the dust, Sebastian could get a little satisfaction from it. Anything to reward his fucking wounded ego. 

"I don't - think I can - keep - going.." Jim finally gasped after a while, ashamed at being so damned week but starting to see black spots, his fingers shaking and legs leaden. He could recognise the irritating signs of being about to pass out, though Dougie clasped his hand again, Jim pursing his lips, wishing he wouldn't do that. He tried to pull it away, but Dougie held fast, misinterpreting the move.

"I've got you." He promised, still breathless, panting as he ran. "Come on, we can do this."

"No.. really.." Jim tried to find Sebastian, to ask to stop, but he suddenly couldn't see the Captain's face - couldn't see anything at all. The world suddenly black, he felt the ground, hard and hot against his cheek, his head throbbing as sweating hands pressed anxiously at his skin.

"Jim? Jim! Sit up.. I have some water.." Dougie's voice was anxious, breathing hard himself from his run, half cradling Jim on the ground as he held up his canteen with shaking fingers, Jim trying to blink away the black spots enough to take a drink.

"I.. passed out.." He murmured blearily, and Dougie nodded, his fingers stroking back Jim's hair, damp with sweat. 

"Yes, you did." The voice came flatly, brusque, and suddenly Sebastian was standing over them again, arms folded over his chest. His expression showed no sympathy, and Jim feebly tried to extricate himself from Dougie's arms. "Medic, you can rest. Dougie, keep going."

"..Yes Captain."

Trying to stand up, Jim's legs gave out again, the blackness taking him under.

-

When Jim woke up, his mouth was dry as sandpaper, his head still aching and his body sticky with sweat. He was laying on the canvas bed with a few of the others gathered around him, sitting and reading magazines, or cleaning the guns, and they glanced at him when he woke up, though no one said anything. 

"..How.." He tried to say, but croaked the word, and Max wordlessly, guiltily handed over a full canteen, Jim taking a long drink. His fingers were still trembling. 

"How long was I out?"

"Not long." Betsy answered him, not looking up from his magazine. "Bout twenty five minutes."

Jim nodded, rubbing at his eyes, desperately wanting a shower. He hunted around for his towel, body aching, and then sat up, a thought hitting him as he looked around his friends. "Where's Dougie?"

The boys exchanged looks, seemingly uncomfortable with that question, and then Ali jabbed a thumb towards the head of the tent, leaning forwards to whisper a little concernedly. "..He's.. still running."

Jim blinked, setting his towel slowly on his bed. "..What?"

"Yeah." Betsy frowned, glancing at the others a little conspiratorially. "..Seb's pushing him really hard."

Skeets shook his head, walking over barechested with his t shirt in hand. "Jesus Jim, what did you do?"

Jim just swallowed, staggering back out of the tent, looking around until he spotted his friend, utterly slick with sweat, his pace slow and laboured, still running around the base. Sebastian watched him stonily, arms folded over his chest, and Jim took a few panicked steps towards Dougie, his friend holding up a weak hand in greeting. He looked as though he could pass out at any moment, dragging his feet a little, unsteady as the hot sun beat down on him.

Furious, Jim turned, pacing back to Sebastian, staring down those cold eyes. 

"Stop it." He demanded, his fists clenched by his sides. "Stop it now."

"Would you like to run with him again, medic?" The Captain asked curtly, not moving an inch, though a muscle jumped in his jaw. 

"You're killing him." Jim spat, gritting his teeth, and pointing at his friend. "You're being a total arse and you don't even know the full-"

"The full story?" Sebastian interrupted, his words dangerously low. "I'm sorry medic, would you like to go into detail?"

"It's not what you think-"

"Did he fuck you against the wall? Or maybe you just sucked him off.."

"Sebastian, for fuck's sake, nothing happened!" He hissed, glancing over at his friend, who was looking worse for wear by the second. "If you'll just fucking let him stop, I'll tell you everything. For God's sake, he's going to pass out!"

"Yeah, I think he is." The Captain mused, not sounding particularly bothered by that, and Jim narrowed his eyes at him, taking a step closer. 

"God help me, I made a mistake the day I got involved with you." He growled, and Sebastian raised his eyebrows. "You're nothing like the man I thought you were."

"That makes two of us, medic."

"Stop him." He held that stony gaze, squaring up to the Captain, his words angry and low. "Now."

A long few moments of silence passed between them, and then Sebastian called out, the words almost bored. "Alright, Dougie. You can stop."

Jim turned to look around as his friend staggered and stopped, leaning against the wall to breathe hard, his eyes closed. After a few moments, he slid down to sit in the dust, his chest heaving, head tipped back against the wall.

"No, Dougie.." Jim called, waving a hand. "Don't just stop.. Walk.. walk it off."

He watched as his friend stood, beginning to walk slowly around the compound again. Jim turned his gaze back to Sebastian. 

"Med tent." He said, the Captain glowering at him. "Now."

"You can tell me right here." Sebastian said bluntly, folding his arms over his chest. "Medic."

 

-

Jim, at the end of his damned tether, tried to push Sebastian hard, to guide him back into the shower block at least, not wanting to go into detail out here. God knows, the Captain was going to be even angrier when he heard about Hakeemah, and he'd rather not be yelled at in front of everyone. Again. His fingers met hard muscle, Sebastian merely arching an eyebrow at him, Jim's hands remaining there for a moment as he remembered that body naked, pressed against his own..

Sebastian pushed him away a touch more roughly than was necessary, and Jim scowled, marching straight past him into the block, giving him no alternative but to follow. After a long while, he did, though stood in the doorway, filling the damn frame as he folded his arms over his chest. It actually made Jim feel a little.. trapped. 

"First things first, I'd tell you not to freak the fuck out, but I think we're a bit late for that." Jim scoffed sarcastically, digging his hands into his pockets. Sebastian only rolled his eyes, and Jim continued, the words quiet yet firm. 

"I didn't have sex with Dougie."

"I didn't say-"

"Nor did we do anything else. No kissing, no touching, no fucking.. whatever else you think happened out there. We were sweaty because we were running for our fucking lives."

Sebastian's arms fell slowly down to his sides, his expression suddenly a lot more wary than before, that anger seeming to dissipate - at least for a few moments. 

"..What were you doing outside the compound, Jim?" He asked, voice dangerously quiet, back in Captain mode. 

Jim swallowed, met his gaze squarely, and as boldly as he could manage, said; "..I went to see Hakeemah."

A beat passed, one curious moment of stunned silence, and then Sebastian was on him, hands hard on his arms, Jim's back hitting a tiled wall. His heart began to pound.

"You did what?" Sebastian growled, the words threateningly low, and Jim began to speak fast, all bravado vanishing as quickly as it had come.

"You wouldn't let me go and I needed to go, I needed to see her Sebastian, she was suffering, starving, she was really hurt and she wasn't coming to school. I waited until the boys were asleep, and snuck out-"

"The gate." Sebastian said through gritted teeth, glaring down at him, fingers still tight around his arms. "How did you get-"

"Ballbag was on a smoke break and Max had fallen asleep." Jim answered just as quickly, no longer loyal enough to Max to save him from trouble. He'd thrown Jim and Dougie under the damned bus, after all. Sebastian swore, closing his eyes, releasing Jim's arms and beginning to pace, obviously agitated.

"You idiots. You.. What did you think you were doing?!"

"You listen to me until I've finished!" Jim shot back, clenching his fists at his sides. "I was three quarters of the way there before I even knew that Dougie had followed me and by then it was too late to send him back, and dangerous without the mine detector-"

"Oh, so you took precautions! Fantastic!" Sebastian snapped, and Jim spoke quickly again, hurrying to get his story out before the Captain totally exploded.

"We made it to the town and Tela took us to Hakeemah. I treated her, the mother was really grateful, everything was going good. But then the father appeared, didn't like what he saw, and immediately began to shout for-"

"This is fucking unbelievable!"

"-Sadaf."

Sebastian, still pacing, a hand at his forehead, teeth gritted and ready to blow a damned gasket - suddenly stilled, and looked straight at Jim, green eyes wide. His voice was almost soft. 

"..What?"

"Sadaf." Jim swallowed. "He was shouting for Sadaf, and then the women were yelling, hurrying us out like we were in danger. We.. We ran the whole way back." He looked down at the tiles. "If Dougie hadn't been armed, I think we might have been shot there and then." He looked up again, bold. "He didn't deserve what you did to him this morning. He probably saved my life."

Sebastian looked at him for a long moment, and then shook his head slowly. 

"Don't you dare turn this around on me. You two should both be instantly dismissed for what you did. You disobeyed direct orders, Jim. Of course you could have come back. You could have come straight back when you realised Dougie was there and not put both of you at risk."

"But the intel-"

"-Is not worth risking your life, and your comrade's life for."

Jim sighed impatiently, "You know that's not why I went."

"Yeah, I know." Sebastian shook his head, that muscle jumping in his jaw again. "If you hadn't brought back this damned intel, I'd have you struck off for going to that girl."

"I helped her."

"I don't give a flying fuck, medic."

The words were harsh, but Jim looked away, knowing when to quit. He couldn't keep challenging Sebastian on this forever. He knew that he'd done wrong, leaving the compound. Knew it when he'd gone ahead, even when discovering Dougie had followed him. Knew it when he was sat on the floor of Hakeemah's house, dabbing salve on her bruises and receiving a tiny smile for that book and pen, and had definitely known it when they were running for their lives. Sebastian knew why he'd done it, and he knew what had come of it, too. Satisfied with that, Jim would take the punishment.

He bowed his head. "Yes Captain."

Sebastian blinked at him, seemingly not expecting the change in attitude. After a few moments of silence, Jim peeked up at him again.

"If you're going to have me dismissed, sir, please don't send Dougie back too. He was only following my example. And like I say, he might very well have saved my arse."

The Captain didn't say anything for a while, merely watched Jim and then sighed at long last.

"..If you ever do anything like that again, I'll have you on a plane back to England faster than you can say your own name."

Jim looked up, hopeful.

"I swear Jim, I'm so fucking angry with you right now. Don't look at me like that. You could have been killed. Held for ransom. I would have gotten bollocked for it."

"Why-"

"I am responsible for you. All of you. Any little stunt like this comes back on my head."

Jim nodded, pulling at the hem of his jacket. "Yes sir. Sorry sir."

"And don't.. fucking call me sir.." The mutter was quiet, and Jim glanced up, raising an eyebrow, the hint of a smile on his face.

Sebastian sighed. "..I'll have to talk to the highers about this intel. See what they want to do. Somehow exclude the way we came about the information.."

"Yes sir." Jim said quickly, relieved by the way everything had been accepted, that he'd scraped by, by the skin of his teeth. The Captain ran a hand over a stubbled jaw, seemingly thinking hard about their next move, before glancing back at Jim.

"..You're really not.. with Dougie?" He asked, a little more quietly, and Jim rolled his eyes.

"Of course I'm not."

Sebastian frowned. "He keeps holding your hand."

"Yeah." Jim grimaced, eyes finding the tile again. "..I.. think you were right. He told me he 'likes me'."

The Captain shifted his weight from one foot to the other, folding his arms over his chest. 

"And what did you say?"

"..I told him to let me go to sleep."

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh. 

"A crush. That's very sweet. Well, we'll have to do something about it."

Jim arched an eyebrow. "..What?"

In a few sauntering steps, Sebastian's hands had found Jim's cheeks, and his mouth was against his own, kissing him hard, his back pressed up against the tiled shower wall. Jim might have moaned into his mouth, hands fisting in his t shirt, Sebastian's body flush against his own as warm, rough-skinned hands slid beneath his jacket, pushing it off onto the shower floor.

-


	14. November

The sex was fantastic. 

Jim had never done it in the shower before, and hadn't exactly planned on it when he'd brought Sebastian in here, but the Captain's hands were frenzied, rough as they pulled at his clothes, Jim's own hands fumbling at his superior's belt. He wasn't even sure if it had meant to happen, but suddenly they were naked together, Sebastian's mouth urgent on his own, warm water cascading over them both as a warm hand slid between his cheeks, pressing slick fingers carefully inside him.

He was gasping, moaning, back arching against the cold wall as warm hands came to rest at his waist, his thighs around the Captain's middle, and Sebastian's mouth at his neck as he pressed inside. He'd never felt anything so damn blissful, the consequence of so much anger at one another, that fury and jealousy and disobedience all coming to a head - as Jim scratched paths in the Captain's back, and Sebastian dragged moans from the medic with those harsh upward rocks of his hips.

The water made their skin slick, and when they finally came - Jim first, the evidence was washed away almost immediately, Jim holding tight onto Sebastian, mouth pressed to a muscled shoulder, the Captain's fingers running slowly through his hair. They were both breathless, Jim's heart pounding, and he worried immediately that he'd been too loud, remembering his gasped moans, those whimpers that had caught in his throat, though Sebastian laughed it off and kissed him again, slower this time, a dance of tongues.

They kissed like that for a while, holding each other, Jim enjoying letting his fingers roam over Sebastian's body under the flowing water - and completely losing track of time, it seemed. When they heard footsteps, they sprang apart, Jim diving into a cubicle closer to the end, and turning into the corner as he usually did, cheeks blushing furiously as Dougie came to stand in the cubicle beside him.

"..How did it go?" He asked conspiratorially, leaning over the wall a little, Jim still facing away. He blinked at the tiles, for a bizarre and panicked moment thinking that he meant the sex, before realising with his next words that he must have meant telling Sebastian about Hakeemah and Sadaf. "..I came to shower but you were talking.."

"Oh, right." Jim's voice was still breathless, and when he glanced around he found Sebastian watching him, smirking a little from across the block. "Yeah." He nodded at Dougie. "We're in trouble but.. yeah. We're fine. We're not being.. dismissed or anything."

Dougie gave a long sigh of relief, and nodded, smiling anxiously. "Thank fuck for that, right?"

"Thank.. fuck." Jim agreed, as Sebastian stepped out of the cubicle, as naked as the day he was born, and winked at him. Jim blushed furiously, and when he glanced back, noticed that he seemed to be drying himself extremely slowly, no doubt hanging around to see what Dougie was doing. To make sure he didn't make a move. But then, who would ever fuck in the shower? Jim smiled in spite of himself, rubbing shampoo into his scalp.

"So.." Dougie's voice was quiet when he spoke, still leaning on the cubicle wall to talk to Jim, pushing wet hair back from his face. "Have.. you thought about it any more?"

"What?" Jim asked, still distracted by the sight of the Captain, who was quite obviously watching them intently. 

"..What I told you last night. Have you thought about it any more? You and me.. together?"

Jim frowned, and washed the shampoo from his hair, really not wanting to answer that. "..Dougie.." He began, "..I.."

"Boys." Sebastian's voice came loud and echoing from the end of the block. "You getting friendly in there? Come on. Out, now."

With an apologetic smile, Jim turned off the water, wrapped his towel around his waist, and hurried from the block, Dougie watching him go with a frown.

 

-

As it was a Saturday, today would only need a couple of hours patrol without the school to protect - and without Sebastian's orders from the highers having come through yet, in regards to.. Sadaf. And how to proceed with that. Jim rather hoped that, after all that, the intel was actually worth something. It had saved him and Dougie from being dismissed, though he supposed his.. relationship with Sebastian could also have helped. Just a little bit. 

Sebastian had disappeared back into his tent, carrying a pile of clothes, some of which were Jim's, and Jim hadn't wanted to disturb him after that, aware that he'd be calling the highers, relaying the intel, getting his orders or arranging meetings. He was glad for his interruption in the shower block, though. He didn't want to go into that with Dougie, not now. He didn't want to upset his friend, nor reveal why it was impossible. 'I'm fucking the Captain' just didn't seem the right thing to say, somehow. 

The day passed before Jim could even realise it, an extra hour or two that they'd gained from not watching the school, meaning almost nothing at all. He'd laid on his bed reading a book, and had then written a letter to his mother, Dougie sitting at the end of his bed and sniggering at him, mocking some of his eloquent words every now and then, Jim explaining that his mother wouldn't focus on a single word he'd said if it wasn't written well. He was.. happy, though. As happy as he could be, realistically. Dougie had dropped the subject, Sebastian was alright with him again, and nobody was getting dismissed. Hakeemah was.. better. And they had leads on their enemies.

When they finally set off for the mid-afternoon patrol, Jim and Dougie were both yawning, still tired from that run, his friend sitting beside him in the tank and promptly falling asleep. Sebastian caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, and Jim rolled his eyes, listening to the others talk. Max continued to stay sheepishly quiet, but Skeets was loud, talking about how excited he was about his leave in a few weeks time, all the things he was going to do, see, and eat at home. That launched a conversation on their favourite foods that had Jim salivating over beef burgers, spare ribs, crispy fries and chinese chow mein. The conversation lasted until they arrived at the town, at which point the Captain quietened them all, his tone low and serious. 

Jim focused on his mouth, unable to look anywhere else and concentrate, still thinking about Sebastian's lips, urgent against his own. He swallowed, listening hard.

"We received intel this morning on Sadaf."

A few anxious murmurs ran through the boys, glancing at each other, and clutching their guns more tightly. Sebastian continued, and Jim elbowed Dougie awake.

"We have reason to believe that he is residing in the town, probably with his men, and as far as we can tell - ruling with an iron fist."

That seemed plausible. The way the man had called for him, the way Hakeemah's mother and Tela had been instantly terrified..

"My highers haven't yet decided on the best course of action, but they're considering taking in a couple of the townspeople tomorrow for questioning. They'd be held by Hamza, Ashan and the others, and our conversations would be translated and recorded. For today, we just patrol. This is the busiest market of the week as you well know, and after a little trouble last night.." He gave Jim and Dougie a pointed glance, "..We may face a little hostility. So be on your guard."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"Be vigilant, be alert, and listen for that god damn name."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"Medic, you're with me."

Jim had to resist rolling his eyes at that, a tiny smile on his lips, though he felt Dougie edge closer to him, following him as they left the tank. He walked beside him, Sebastian glancing at him as he led them towards the first few scattered houses of the town, heading for the market. Jim felt eager to see Hakeemah's house.. maybe he could catch a look at her, maybe see her using her new book. He'd brought a pocketful of pens, just in case, and Dougie had loaded up his own pockets with sweets from the stash his brother had sent him. 

He walked in a line of three - himself in the middle with Dougie on one side and Sebastian on the other, which kind of described his life right now. Dougie dropped down a hand, his fingers brushing Jim's, and Sebastian kept glancing over at them both, expression somewhere between amusement and irritation. 

The market was busy, as expected. Last week it had been the same, everyone in the town seeming to have a stall out here, selling everything from vegetables to old bric a brac, bread and meat to home-stitched shoes. Jim turned, squeezing Sebastian's arm, the Captain glancing around to make sure the others hadn't noticed before he looked to Jim. 

"Yeah?"

"Have you got any money on you? Afghan money?"

"..Think I have a few coins from poker. Why? You want something?" He gestured amusedly with his gun at a floppy hat on a stand, Dougie overhearing and digging in his own pockets for coins.

"I gave all mine away last night." He sighed unhappily, Sebastian still looking confused. Dougie looked at Jim, and then back to the Captain. "He wants to buy Hakeemah some shoes, don't you Jim?"

Jim just blinked at him, a little surprised. "..Well.. well, yeah, I.."

Sebastian seemed to have hardened a little at the interruption, and shook his head, beginning to walk away. Jim frowned, hurrying after him, speaking quietly.

"..I'll pay you back."

"You shouldn't keep getting involved."

"Yeah, like that's what this is about.."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "What else would it be about?"

Jim rolled his eyes, still scouting around them, holding his gun. The faces of the locals were not friendly, but not any less than usual. Last night didn't seem to have done any lasting damage. "Dougie only knows about shoes because of last night. Hakeemah doesn't have any. Her mother couldn't afford any."

"So?"

"So, he doesn't know me better, or whatever else it is that you're grumpy about."

"Watch your language, medic." Sebastian muttered back, and Jim shook his head, a little amused. Sebastian went on. "Are you going to buy every child in this town a new pair of shoes?"

"Well no-"

"Then it's not fair."

Jim dropped his head, knowing that he was right about that. He glanced back at Dougie, who frowned apologetically, his pockets empty. He turned back to Sebastian, voice meek. 

"..I'll pay you back."

Five minutes later, and Jim held the pair of shoes happily under one arm, his gun in both hands and his med bag on his back. Sebastian had eventually coughed up the money, and Dougie had helped him estimate the size of Hakeemah's feet. He grinned, walking alongside him.

"I can't wait to give them to her."

"Don't be hasty, butter balls. I bought them. I'm giving them to her."

"If you don't shut up and concentrate on patrolling, neither of you are giving them to her." The Captain said, muttering, and Jim and Dougie responded with a "YES CAP-TAIN," continuing their walk through the stalls. Jim couldn't help but look at every man, wondering if he was Sadaf, though he hadn't seen Hakeemah's father again. And he was looking for him. If they needed to take him in for questioning, it would be good to know where he lived, and he definitely didn't live with Hakeemah and her mother, even if he visited. 

The hour passed painfully slowly, Jim holding that pair of shoes, the pens rattling in his pocket, tense and desperate to get to Hakeemah again, worrying now about what might have happened after they'd left last night. That her father might have gone mad, beaten her into a mess, maybe even her mother and Tela too. At long last, Sebastian walked back over to him, squeezing his shoulder, giving him permission to lead Neo team to the house. He glanced at Dougie, his friend nodding, grinning, helping him remember the route that Tela had taken them in the dead of night, much nicer in the daylight between the houses, children running and playing, women in burqas hanging clothes on lines outside in the heat. 

Jim couldn't help it. He ran the last bit of the way, the shoes in hand, daft smile on his face.. only to stop, to freeze where he stood, his heart icy in his throat. 

Hakeemah's house was gone.

No more crumbling walls and fabric strung up in the windows. No more frail wooden door, or the remains of a roof. No mother. No Hakeemah.

In it's place was a charred outline of its foundations, with the remnants of a mattress half hidden beneath ash and burnt wood. A school book lay in the ashes, blackened and charred, and before he knew what was happening, Jim was on his knees, a cry torn from his chest, hands trying to pull him to his feet on all sides.

The pair of new shoes, hand-stitched and ready for little feet, clattered down to rest in the dust.

-


	15. Oscar

"They did this on purpose."

It was the first thing Jim had said since they'd seen the house. They were back in the tank now, Jim having been half carried there by Sebastian and Dougie, fingers shaking with anger, and grief curling hot and visceral in his chest. His words were hoarse and quiet, and Dougie took one of his hands and squeezed it, looking shell shocked himself. Sebastian frowned. 

"We don't know that, medic."

Jim shot him a look, his gaze cloudy with his despair, unable to stop thinking about Hakeemah and her mother, locked in that house, tied down maybe as the flames raged around them. Almost immediately, Dougie had suggested with blind hopefulness that they might not have been inside, but Jim had simply shaken his head. Of course they would have. This was a clear message. This was a warning. A terrible, terrible punishment for Jim getting too involved. That thought was a heavy stone in his chest. 

"..It's my fault." He whispered, horrified, his eyes wet. He held those shoes, not remembering picking them up again, but clutching them in his lap as the tank trundled silently back towards the compound. "It's.. it's my.."

"It's the fault of the Taliban that burned down the house." The Captain said firmly, "Don't start thinking that way."

"..If I hadn't gone.."

A few of the boys blinked at him at that, sharing bemused looks. Skeets frowned. "Gone where?"

"It's not important." Sebastian answered, shooting Jim a warning glance, though he wasn't paying attention, too lost in the avalanche of guilt and fury. "All we know is, this group - and Sadaf - knew that we had involvement with that little girl and her mother. And now they're.." He tailed off for a moment, and the words burst out of Jim in a bitter half shriek.

"Dead. They're dead!"

"Jim-"

"She was seven years old." Jim croaked, before gritting his teeth, that anger surging again. "Seven fucking years old."

"Medic."

"All she wanted to do was fucking go to school."

They arrived back at the compound just in time, Jim on the brink of fucking exploding. He couldn't help it. He could almost hear their screams in his mind. He wondered if her father had even tried to help, and dismissed it just as quickly. He'd seen that rage in the man's eyes, the disgust, heard the fighting with Hakeemah's mother. Sebastian began to say something but Jim was up and out of the tank almost as soon as they'd come to a stop, striding off towards the med tent, James II, Ali and Dougie following him hesitantly before he turned around, holding out a hand.

"I need to be alone."

They stopped, Dougie nodding, seeming to understand, even if the others looked blank. Well, they hadn't known what was going on. He supposed they wondered why he was so bothered about a civilian child, even if it was terrible. He dropped his bag on the floor of the med tent and pressed his hands hard to his mouth, dropping down slowly to his knees again, his fingers trembling. He wanted to scream, to tear something apart, to make them all burn for what they'd done. 

If they hadn't gone last night, it never would have happened. If he'd never met Hakeemah, never helped her, she might have had a better chance. 

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to force that thought from his head. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. He'd done his best. He'd done all he could for her. And he'd make sure that her killers would be brought to justice.

Killers.

It didn't seem right. Seven years old.

He straightened at last, his eyes wet, and set that pair of shoes on the table, staring at them for a few moments. To think, he'd been to excited to give them to her. To see her run around in them. He sat down gingerly on his examination table, tissue paper crinkling beneath him, and just looked at them, needing the silence. A few moments of quiet reflection and mourning. The anger wouldn't go away, though.

They'd pay. He'd make sure of it.

-

After he'd been in the med tent for about an hour, Greg stepped inside, Jim glancing up at him with a shadow of a weak smile. He hadn't spoken to him properly since he'd had his panic attack, and if he was honest, he thought that he'd probably been avoiding his eye. He held two cans of cider, and passed one to Jim, who hesitated before taking it with a nod. He cracked it open, and took a sip.

"Thanks Greg." He said quietly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Greg answered, and gave him a small smile, jabbing a thumb behind himself. "We've had a crate of ciders sent over by the commanders. A.. well done for the intel. Are you coming out?"

A well done for the intel. Jim closed his eyes. A 'well done' was the last thing he deserved right now. He felt numb, his insides ravaged. 

"Maybe in a little while."

"Might not be any left. Dougie's going crazy."

Jim nodded, remembering his friend's expression. "..He's probably cut up too. He helped me treat her."

"It's not your fault, you know." Greg said quietly, his eyes falling on that pair of shoes. Jim had polished them with one of the cloths until they shone. He didn't really know why. It wasn't as if she'd ever wear them. 

"Isn't it?" Jim replied, screwing his eyes shut, that thought a pain in his chest. Greg shook his head.

"I used to think the same. When.. Marshy died.. I was right beside him. I could never.. stop thinking that if I'd just looked this way or that way, if I'd just walked a few steps.. behind, or.. stopped to talk to him for a minute.." He frowned, words tailing off. Jim gave a meek smile, grateful for the attempt.

"It was my helping her that did this. I know it was. I misjudged it all, Greg, I misjudged it so fucking badly." He pressed his hands to his eyes, his words tired. "I just wanted to help. I needed to help."

"Seb was right. It isn't your fault. It's only their fault. And they'll pay."

Jim nodded, and Greg held out a hand. After a moment, he sighed and took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. They left the med tent with their ciders, Jim pleased for the friendly words, but in no means ready for any kind of celebration. It seemed wrong. In bad taste.

He wanted to curl up into a ball, or scream so hard that he lost his voice. Or go out there with his gun, and shoot until he had no bullets left. Make someone, anyone pay for the most despicable.. the.. the worst..

He'd drown his sorrows with the boys. He was helpless, again. 

-

As Greg had said, most of those ciders had now gone, though Sebastian had saved him another couple, which he held out as Jim and Greg approached, thanking Greg with a nod. His gaze was cautious, concerned.

"..How are you doing?"

"How am I doing?" Jim repeated a little hollowly, and the Captain frowned.

"Stupid question."

"A little bit. I want to kill everyone."

The boys were in various states of drunkenness, though they seemed to quieten a little when Jim arrived, jovial smiles disappearing into the tent, and conversations becoming hushed. Ali beckoned him over, but Jim shook his head, draining the remnants of his cider can and sitting down on the empty crate. Sebastian hovered next to him for a moment, and when no one was looking, ran a hand over the back of his neck, an attempt to comfort.

"..I wish I could stay, but I have to go and make a call. We're going after the father tomorrow. He'll lead us to Sadaf."

Jim just nodded, opening another can. 

"Come and find me later." Sebastian added, and Jim gave him a half smile, before turning back to his drink. He didn't feel like sitting here, amongst his excited comrades, beside the CD player that someone had stuck on some kind of 90s mix. It was their night off - to relax, he knew that. And yet relaxing was just.. never going to happen. Not now. The Captain left, heading off to his tent, and soon Dougie arrived, sitting down next to Jim and stealing one of his ciders, opening it with a grin and drinking half the can in one go. 

He swung an arm around Jim's shoulders, and pulled him in, Jim resisting the urge to sigh as the friendly arm became a hug, and Dougie's smile faded.

"..I know.." His friend said simply, Jim suddenly surprised by the emotion in his voice. "..I know how you feel."

Jim closed his eyes, resisting the urge to fucking.. cry. The fact that Dougie was affected too, that he understood, that he was putting on a front for the boys..

"I shook her hand." He told Jim, voice quiet, thick in his throat. "..I shook her hand when we got there, before she'd.. before you started treating her. I can't believe she's gone."

"I know." Jim near whispered, and tried to extricate himself to take a sip of cider. It didn't work, Dougie holding fast, and Jim didn't particularly care. It felt nice. Good, for someone to understand. Sebastian didn't. He couldn't. Even if he could.. sympathise, there would always be a note of 'I told you so' in there somewhere. "Dougie, it's my fault."

"Don't." Dougie's voice was suddenly harsh, but quiet, his arms tightening around Jim. "Don't you dare. No it is not. Not even.. a bit. Not at all."

"But it is, though, isn't it? Nobody.. nobody wants to say it.. but if I-"

"You were doing your job."

"Sebastian told me not to go.."

"Sebastian doesn't know shit." Dougie's words made Jim blink in shock for a moment, but then he laughed quietly, wondering what the Captain would say if he heard Dougie talking like that. Hell, he'd probably be running another fifty laps. After a few seconds, Dougie started laughing too, and the sound was bitter, a little disbelieving, fueled by grief and alcohol. All too soon, it turned into crying, shaking sobs into his friend's shoulder, Jim never having felt so weak. The whole thing had backfired. He'd tried to help Hakeemah, tried to stop feeling helpless. And now he was more damn helpless than ever. 

"I know." Dougie said, his own voice thick, both holding each other tight, crying like damned drunks in the back of a bar. Jim wished that was the case - not two friends, comforting one another on a crate in an army compound. Crying over a child that they had no right to cry over, a life that they couldn't save. 

"..Dougie.." Jim said after a moment, his voice a pitiful croak, breaths hitching slightly. "..What.. what - what am I going to do with those s- shoes?"

"I'll wear them if it makes you happy." Dougie told him, and kissed his temple, Jim closing his eyes. "..Anything, if it made you happy."

Jim made the mistake of looking up at him, eyes bleary with tears, and Dougie's hand slipped to his cheek, his lips warm and suddenly against Jim's own. Jim felt dizzy, and a half sob caught in his throat, a hand coming to rest against Dougie's chest as his friend's tongue skimmed over his bottom lip. 

It took a long few moments for Jim to come to his senses, and then he pulled back, almost toppling over the crate in his urgency, Dougie grabbing his arm to steady him. He was breathing hard, and stood, still dizzy, shaking his head.

"I'm.. You.. I can't..-" He tried, and Dougie blinked at him, frowning.

"..Jim?"

"I have to go to bed now." He garbled, and then hurried away, the cider making his eyes a little fuzzy, emotions all over the fucking place. His heart was slamming in his chest, mind telling himself that he'd done something wrong again - that he'd messed up something else, and he sat down on his bed for only a moment before deciding that the couldn't possibly stay here. He headed out to Sebastian's tent, making sure to walk around the back way, though paused before he pushed his way inside, hearing voices. 

At first, he thought it was the Captain on his phone call. But it wasn't. It was Dougie.

Confused, Jim listened with a frown, pressed flat against the tent. 

"..Sorry, sir. Didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't, Dougie. The call finished. What is it?"

There was a slight pause, and then the sound of a scuffle, and Dougie swore quietly. Sebastian's voice sounded disapproving.

"..How many have you had?"

"I just want some advice, sir."

"..I see. I'm not your counsellor."

"No, sir."

"..Fire away."

Jim fidgeted, uncomfortable, mind still a touch hazy from the cider. Dougie spoke, his voice quietly confident.

"I'm in love, Seb. I'm.. absolutely.. can't.. even.." 

"..A girl back home?" Sebastian's answer was flat, seemingly not even believing the words before Dougie answered, his voice low.

"..No. It's.. Jim. The medic. I'm .. he's.."

"Right."

"I didn't even think I liked men. I've never liked one before-"

"Yeah. Okay. This really isn't my field of expertise.." Sebastian muttered, and Jim heard fast footsteps, wondering if Dougie had strode over to the Captain. His own chest felt tight, unhappy, feeling torn. He touched his lips, still able to feel that warmth there. 

"No-" Dougie's voice was urgent. "I know, I'm sorry, it isn't. I just.. I need to know if it's .. allowed?"

"What?"

"Can we be together? Two.. from the same team?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Sebastian answered a touch coldly. "I don't think you need to worry about that, Dougie."

"What?"

"Well." The Captain seemed to be doing his best to sound diplomatic. "..Has he given you any indication that he might return the sentiment?"

Dougie laughed, and Jim's heart was suddenly in his throat.

"Yes! I didn't.. I mean, I was starting to think that there.. that he.."

"..What do you mean?"

"I kissed him."

Another beat of silence, thick this time, Sebastian's voice a growl when he spoke.

"..You did what?"

"He's really cut up about today. We were talking about it. I read the signs."

"The signs."

Jim had clapped a hand to his mouth, eyes wide as he listened, heart slamming into his ribs. He wasn't sure what to do, didn't want Dougie to say any more, but hell if it wasn't too late. 

"Look, can you just tell me if we're allowed or not? I think it might be the reason he keeps.. you know. Pulling away from me. Dropping my.. hand."

"Yeah, that's the reason." Sebastian muttered.

"What?"

Jim was biding his time, waiting to rush into the tent, to change the subject, to get Dougie out of there so he could plead innocence to Sebastian, to apologise. They could go to sleep together, and everything would be fine. He could put this whole fucking day behind him. The house, the shoes, Dougie.. 

Evidently, the world did not agree. All at once, shouting voices were loud around them, Hamza rushing over and pushing into Sebastian's tent, yelling something at him first in Pashto, and then in accented English, Sebastian immediately pushing past Dougie and hurrying out. 

Jim managed to stagger behind the tent, to hide again,as the Captain yelled "NEO TEAM," at the top of his lungs, pulling on his heavy armoured vest, grabbing his gun. Running back to the tent, Jim almost ran straight into Dougie, sharing a second of a look that Jim desperately wanted to ignore as he tugged on his own helmet and grabbed his gun, their comrades in various drunken states of undress around them. 

Sebastian marched into the tent a moment later, not looking at Jim and Dougie.

"NEO TEAM."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

"Hamza has seen something in the distance. A fire, close to us. It's meant for us, it has to be. We're going now. Get dressed, we fall out in 30 seconds."

YES CAP-TAIN."

-


	16. Papa

Already anxious, Jim hurried after Sebastian, the others trailing after, still pulling on boots and helmets, finding their guns. Dougie's hand found Jim's, and he pulled it away, trying his damnedest to hurry after the Captain. Dougie just matched his pace.

"Sebastian-" He called, but Sebastian was fiddling with the mine detector, and glanced back at the boys, seemingly not hearing him.

"NEO TEAM. Follow me. Be fucking careful, they know we're coming. On your guards!"

He straightened, pacing out ahead, Jim swearing and dashing into the med tent to retrieve his med bag, pulling it onto his shoulders before following the others out into the pitch black desert, all walking behind Sebastian in a line, guns moving this way and that. Dougie stuck by Jim, laughing quietly until Jim shot him a look.

"Sorry. I had a lot of cider.."

He shushed him, able to see the light in the distance as they got nearer, immistakeably a flame or fire of some sort. 

"..What the hell is going on?"

"Captain says quiet." Max murmured to them, and Jim frowned, pursing his lips together. His heart had begun to pound with the adrenaline, holding his gun tightly as they got closer, the fire almost blinding in the pitch blackness as they got closer. He still felt a little woozy from the alcohol, a little panicked from Dougie's conversation with Sebastian, and hard grief in his chest from Hakeemah. This was the last thing he wanted - another thing, another danger. Another damned day at this base.

"You okay?" Dougie whispered as they got closer, and Jim nodded, feeling that hand reach over and squeeze his own again. He pursed his lips.

"Yeah I'm good. You?"

"Yeah."

He turned back to face the front, and they arrived at what appeared to be a ring of fire. Thick piles of dead grass were burning in a wide circle, with something in the middle of them all, the centre of attention, something held down to the dust with a rock. The fires were relatively small, actually - but had been bright enough to draw their attention, which was likely the aim. Sebastian squinted at it for a moment, before turning to the men.

"Fan out. Don't go far. For all we know, they're just waiting for us to drop our guard! Use your canteens to put out these fires."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

The men broke away from one another, fanning out and keeping watch, Jim pulling out his canteen to shake water over one of the fires, the crackling dying away to embers when Dougie came to help. The smoke rose steadily, Jim glancing away every so often, keeping watch, though they could see for miles, and nobody seemed to be nearby. Sebastian was stepping over the embers, the others covering him, bending down to take whatever it was from beneath the rock.

When he straightened, they all took a step closer, looking at what it was that he held. Looked like a newspaper. Sebastian was frowning, and turned it to face them, shrugging.

"Does this make sense to anyone?"

The thick headline was written in Pashto, or another language, and the men all shook their heads. But Jim fell still and silent, panic lancing his chest.

The main picture, beneath the bold text.. was his mother. 

-

 

"Oh my God." 

Dougie's exclamation earned him a swift punch in the ribs from Jim, and he staggered, swearing a little before straightening, seemingly trying to act as if none of that had happened. 

"What?" Sebastian said, pacing over, his expression all business. "What is it? Do you know something?"

"No." Jim lied, his heart pounding, not entirely sure why he was lying. He didn't want to be in more trouble, didn't want something else to be his fault. He swallowed, and Sebastian frowned at him, looking at the picture and then back again. He looked to Dougie next.

"Dougie, what is it? What do you know?"

Dougie shook his head a little too fast, before glancing around with his gun, as if still on watch. Sebastian gritted his teeth, closing his eyes for a moment.

"For the love of God, I do not fucking have time for this. What do you know?" He yelled that last word, and both Jim and Dougie jumped, Jim finally manning up.

"..It's my mother." He said, the words quieter than he would have liked. He pointed at the picture, before shifting his med bag on his shoulders. "..That. Her. She's.. she's my mum."

-

A silence ran through the men, Sebastian staring at Jim in disbelief for a moment before looking at the paper, and then back at Jim. A few murmurs went through the group, and Jim frowned, anxious, not knowing what this meant. 

"I'm sorry.." Sebastian said at last, words low and disbelieving. "Did you say your mother? Margaret McIntyre is your mother?"

Jim shifted his gun in his hands and swallowed. 

"What.. what does the headline say?" He asked meekly, and Sebastian continued to glare at him, pursing his lips. 

"I don't know." He said. "The boys at base will have to tell us."

And at that he pushed past Jim, face like thunder as he began to march back to base. Dougie elbowed Jim, voice quiet. 

"..What do you think it means?"

Jim just shook his head, aware that all the others were listening, Jakey and Ballbag walking closer, pretending to be scouting for threats. 

"I'm gonna say it means they know she's your mum." Skeets muttered, "Which says something, because we fuckin' didn't."

"Back the fuck off, Skeets." Dougie shot back, though Ali piped up, a little apologetically, gesturing with his gun. 

"I think he's got a point. That's important, Jim. You're like -"

"If you say Prince Harry, Ali, I will personally put you on your back." Jim threatened, his friend quieting. If Jim was honest, it was just another misfortune in his fucking terrible day, and from the Captain's face as they filed into the compound, Ashan standing behind him, having seemingly already informed him of the content - it was only going to get worse. 

The gates were closed, the boys all gathering around, Jim's face as red as beetroot. He felt nervous, yes.. but behind that, he was just tired. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was an emotionally tiring day. Either way, he stood with his eyes focussed on the ground as Sebastian spoke, holding the paper aloft. 

"This," He said, "Is the Afghan version of a popular British newspaper, to which Margaret McIntyre spoke last week. She gave an exclusive interview, in which she revealed that she had a son, currently deployed in Afghanistan. Page six shows a picture."

Jim swallowed as Sebastian turned brusquely to page six, so rough with the pages that he might have been trying to rip them, before pausing at page six, and turning it around to show them. A large square section had been cut out.

Sebastian glared at Jim, as if he'd done it himself. 

"Needless to say," He continued coldly, "This is the kind of information that should be volunteered at the start of the posting. Luckily.." He gave a sarcastic smile. "The Taliban are nice enough to tell us who they're targeting." 

He fixed his gaze on Jim, his cheeks burning. 

"Maybe they're more reliable."

Jim looked away, feeling Dougie try and hold his hand. He pulled his fingers free, and shoved them into his pockets, a lump in his throat. 

Sebastian just turned, marching away, Ashan by his side and speaking fast in Pashto, pointing to the paper. 

"Fall out." Sebastian called behind him. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we go after Sadaf."

-

The others headed straight for the tent, a few glancing at Jim as he stood shamed, feeling like he might damned cry. Dougie hung back, and Jim shrugged off his med bag, heading off to the med tent to unpack, his friend trailing after.

"Jim.. about that kiss.."

"It didn't mean anything." Jim said flatly, tiredly, not even turning around. He felt Dougie cringe away, his voice upset. 

"..You don't.. mean that.."

"Don't I?" Jim snapped, and rounded on him, losing his temper. He threw up his arms, tossing down his med bag. "I didn't ask you to kiss me! I don't ask for you to hang off me like a fucking puppy dog! It's not like that, Dougie, I don't see you in that fucking way, not at all, not even a little bit."

The words were harsh, his friend wincing, taking a few steps back.

"..But I.. I love you.."

"Love is nothing but stress." Jim shot back, before storming into the tent, Dougie following after a moment, resting his hands on his arms.

"Listen, I know you're upset about your mum-"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT MY MUM, IT'S ABOUT YOU. FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE." Jim yelled, Dougie backing off immediately, frowning at him. 

"Jim, I-"

"I don't love you. I never have. I never fucking will, okay?"

He spat the words, and Dougie blinked at him for a second, before turning and leaving the med tent, leaving Jim alone with his guilt, his grief and his anger. He stared numbly at the flap of the tent for a long few minutes, before closing his eyes, hating himself. Dougie didn't deserve that. Didn't deserve to be spoken to like that, didn't deserve to love someone like Jim. He sat down on the examination table, his gaze on that pair of shoes again, and just let himself cry, silent and shaking, the tears leaving tracks in the dirt and dust on his cheeks. 

Hakeemah was dead, along with her mother. Jim's fault, his stupid fault for getting involved. Sebastian knew that he and Dougie had kissed, and no doubt wanted nothing to do with him now. His own mother had accidentally put him in the Taliban's crosshairs, in her quest to humanise herself to the masses. And on top of it all, he'd just upset Dougie, who was no doubt his closest friend in this damned compound. He was perfectly entitled to feel a little sorry for himself, and rolled onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut.

-

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, Jim was being carried rather carefully, resting against a warm chest, dog tags clinking beside him. An arm beneath his legs and around his back, Jim blinked himself awake, his mouth dry and his head a little tender from the cider. Green eyes glanced down at him, and he rested his head back against Sebastian's chest, not saying a word. He wasn't sure what to say, nor why the Captain was helping him to bed. He deserved a night on a cold floor, drowning in the sea of his mistakes. 

"Hello." He murmured quietly after a moment, and Sebastian ducked inside his tent, laying Jim down on his bed. Then he sat down beside him, facing away.

"..Hi."

"Do you hate me?" Jim asked, pulling the Captain's pillow into his arms, curling around it and shaking off his boots. His words were quiet, and he watched him with a thickness in his throat. 

"Don't be so ridiculous." Sebastian's voice was soft, and he turned around a little, reaching over to run his fingers through Jim's hair. The gentle touch made his lips tremble, eyes wet all of a sudden, and he buried his face in that pillow, not deserving the tender touch. 

"I.. I'm.. I've.. ruined...-"

"I just wish you'd tell me things." Sebastian said quietly, and rested his face in his hands for a moment, tired. "..Hakeemah.. Dougie.. your mother. When's it going to end? Are you going to single-handedly defeat the Taliban, and then I'll find out a month later in the papers?"

Jim stayed quiet, but reached over, resting a hesitant hand against the Captain's. Sebastian looked back at him. 

"..Did you really kiss him?"

Jim looked away. 

"I didn't mean it to happen. He was.. being all understanding.. and.. you.." He shook his head. "..It doesn't matter. I.. put him straight. He hates me now too."

"Jim, nobody hates you."

Sebastian sighed, and moved closer, climbing onto the bed beside him, leaning over him and running a finger softly down his cheek, tracing those tear tracks. 

"You got too involved with Hakeemah, that's true. But.. I would have done the same. I would have." 

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard, hating even thinking about it. The mistakes, the fire, the death..

"And.. your mother. You didn't want anyone to know about her, I get that. But you should have told me. She's high up in politics. If they get you, they make an impact Jim, you have to know that."

"I know that." Jim croaked, and fingers stroked his cheek again, bringing on a fresh tidal wave of tears, as humiliating as they were.

"..W.. why are you being so n- nice to me? I've.. m-made your life a l-living.. h-hell.."

Sebastian gave a wry smile. "..Living hell is a little strong. And it's nothing I can't cope with. Just for God's sake, please start talking to me."

Jim just nodded, and Sebastian kissed his hair, pulling him closer. 

"..Dougie came to me tonight." He told him quietly. "He told me he loved you."

"..He told me too." Jim replied numbly, closing his eyes against the Captain's warmth. Sebastian was quiet for a moment.

"..Do you love him, Jim?"

Jim opened one eye, looking up at Sebastian with a frown. He gave a look that was a little defensive.

"He knew about your mother."

"He saw her name stamp. He read my letter over my shoulder." Jim protested, "..He's.. my best friend. Easily. Easily one of the best friends I've.. ever.."

"He doesn't think of you as a best friend." Sebastian's voice was soft.

"...I know."

They fell silent, the night quiet, Sebastian's fingers stroking lightly through Jim's hair. He hadn't expected anything like this, hadn't expected to be forgiven so easily, not to be treated with kindness when it was the last thing he deserved.

"..Are you frightened?" Jim asked at last, his eyes closed, warm against the Captain. 

"..For tomorrow?" Sebastian answered after a few long moments, pressing a kiss to Jim's hair. "..No. I don't think so. But I'm going to be sticking by you very closely."

"You always do." Jim murmured, and the Captain laughed quietly.

"So I do."

"..You really think I'm in danger?"

Sebastian pulled back, looked at Jim for a long few moments, green eyes soft and his lips pursed anxiously. He really was something special, Jim thought, letting his gaze wander over the line of his jaw, his tanned skin and long, fair eyelashes. Rough skinned fingers ran along Jim's cheek, and he gave a meek smile, that silence giving him his answer.

"..I see."

"That was a threat, Jim. The fire. The picture being cut away.. I wish I could tell you that I could keep you safe."

"You can. I'd believe you."

"Don't. I've failed men before."

Jim frowned, his own words a whisper. "..Devo's brother?"

Sebastian looked away, and Jim leaned in, resting his head on his shoulder.

"..You won't fail me. I can..look after myself, anyway. Everything will be just.. fine."

"Just fine?" Sebastian's answer was wry, almost amused in his disbelief, and he kissed Jim's hair again, holding him closer.

"Just fine." Jim repeated, and the Captain gave a meek smile.

"..Just fine."


	17. Quebec

Sebastian shook Jim awake gently at the break of dawn, the two of them wrapped around one another, warm in the canvas bed. 

"Come on," He urged, a sleepy murmur as he kissed at the medic's jaw. "Or the men will suspect. Back to your own tent."

Jim groaned, turning over, muttering a little amusedly. "..Are you trying to kick me out of bed?"

Arms pulled him closer, and everything suddenly clicked back into place, hazy morning delirium vanishing into the cruel light of day. The memory of that burnt out house, Jim shouting at Dougie, his mother's face, burning in the centre of a fiery circle. His photograph, cut out of the newspaper. A target. A breath caught in his throat, and warm lips pressed softly to his cheek, his hands tightening around the Captain's arms. 

"You're okay, Jim. I've got you."

The words were gentle, and Jim's body was stiff, heart pounding in his chest for a few long minutes as they lay in silence, Sebastian just holding him. It helped. It was mortifying, but.. it helped. At long last, he closed his eyes, breathing out a slow breath, and relaxed his grip on the Captain's arms. 

"..What happened there?" Sebastian asked quietly, but Jim just shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it, about how it was all getting too much. Hakeemah's death had knocked him for six, utterly carved out his insides, and everything else just added to the pressure. He sat up. 

"I should get out of here." He said, and Sebastian nodded, leaning down to kiss his hair. Jim closed his eyes, ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Thank you." He said quietly. "For not.. being angry. About Dougie. Or my mother. I should have told you."

Sebastian dropped a hand to his own, and squeezed his fingers.

"I actually came to yell at you in the med tent." He confessed quietly, with just a touch of amusement. "But you were fast asleep, curled up on the table. Your eyelashes were still wet."

Jim gave a small smile, looking away. "..I can't seem to do anything right lately, is all."

"We'll get through." The Captain promised, and Jim stood, pulling on his boots but not bothering to put on his clothes. An early morning dash across the compound was better than putting on full uniform, only to take it off a few moments later when he climbed back into his own bed. He kissed Sebastian on the cheek, clothes in hand, and then headed for the front of the tent, ducking out into the early morning sunrise - only to be faced with Dougie, his mouth open and eyes wide in shock.

-

"..Dougie.." Jim breathed, Sebastian stepping out behind him after a moment with a frown, he too only wearing his trousers, Dougie's eyes seeming to bulge out of his head. His face, slack with shock, suddenly contorted into a mixture of anger and disbelief, upset as he threw down the flask of tea he'd been carrying, and stormed off back towards the tent without a word.

"Dougie!" Jim called, but Sebastian put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. Jim tried to cover himself, feeling bare. Exposed.

"Let him go." The Captain said gently. "He was going to find out sooner or later."

Jim watched his friend disappear into the tent, his heart thudding into his chest, aching to go after him, to explain properly. How badly he must think of him, he thought.. To confess his feelings for Jim to Sebastian, only to find later that they were sleeping together. And after Jim's harsh rebuttal.

"..I think he was coming to say sorry." Jim said quietly, watching the spilt tea trickle through the dust. Sebastian squeezed his shoulder, guiding him back inside. "He didn't even have anything to apologise for. That's just.. who he is."

"Just give him time." Sebastian said, and pulled Jim back into his tent, before bending down and taking a pair of boxer shorts from a basket. "Here. You can borrow mine, and some socks. Don't go back to your tent, not while he's still mad."

"..Fuck." Jim breathed, screwing his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed. "..Why do I always fuck it up?"

-

He stayed there for another hour or so, curled up in a blanket and resisting that terrible urge to find Dougie and apologise, glumly watching the Captain sort through his charts and maps. He wondered a little anxiously if Dougie would tell the other boys, and headed out hesitantly at six AM for their daily run - a little relieved when the others filed out sleepily, not even giving him a second glance. A few sore heads this morning no doubt, after the cider last night. 

Jim was the first to start running, ignoring everything else and just focusing on that, a few of the others falling into step behind him. Sebastian ran with them again today at the back of the group, and Dougie remained away from them both, somewhere in the middle and carefully avoiding Jim's eye. His expression was tight, still angry, and though he rolled his eyes, it hurt Jim to run alone. He usually matched his strides to Dougie's, usually paced himself against him, laughed at his breathy words of encouragement. Sebastian never ran with him, not even since they'd been together. He didn't mind that. He liked his own space. But alone had never felt so alone, the others all quietly hungover as they jogged behind.

Sebastian called the run off after twenty five laps, half of their normal time - a few of the men whooping and cheering, seemingly expecting to be able to go back to bed. Breathing hard and leaning against the wall, Jim's chest tightened anxiously as the Captain ordered them into the showers, and then into the tank.

It was a big day. Today was the day they'd take Hakeemah's father for questioning. The day after Jim's life had been threatened. 

A day of danger.

-

He managed to catch Dougie outside the showers, his friend having used the furthest away cubicle, washing fast and pacing away angrily. Jim had just managed to catch him, still wearing his towel and grabbing his friend's arm. 

"Dougie I-"

"Get off me Jim." His voice was harsh in a way Jim had never heard it before, and he let go hesitantly, frowning but following after him when he began to stride back to the tent. 

"I know I should have told you-"

"You know what?" Dougie rounded on him, pointing a finger, visibly upset, his words angry. "Don't. Just don't. I don't wanna talk to you right now."

"But I-"

"The fucking Captain, Jim?" He asked, livid, his fists clenched by his sides, though his words more hurt and disbelieving than angry. "I.. I told him things.."

"I know, Dougie, but I-"

His friend ran an agitated hand over his jaw, and then shook his head. "Just save it. I can't. Not right now."

"I just want to explain."

"I guess that kiss really was nothing." Dougie muttered a little bitterly, closing his eyes, and Jim swallowed, his chest aching.

"Dougie, please.."

Dougie stalked off with a shake of his head, leaving Jim standing there again, heart sinking. A few moments later, Sebastian clapped him on the back. 

"Don't take it too hard. He's hurting. He'll come around." He squeezed Jim's shoulder, and Jim gave a meek smile, looking away. "Go on. I'll see you in the tank in five. It's showtime."

-

Five minutes later, and sure enough, Jim was climbing into the tank, the last of the boys, having taken an extra few minutes to load up his fresh med bag and secure it on his shoulders. The Captain sat opposite the door, and frowned apologetically at him as he entered the vehicle and glanced at Dougie - his usual space beside him filled by Jakey, who was turned to one side talking animatedly to Skeets. Dougie glared at the floor of the tank, and Jim blinked, a lump in his throat, before heading over to sit by Sebastian instead, the Captain helping him take off his med bag and prop it by his feet. 

Ballbag stood up, climbing to poke his head out of the hatch, to keep watch as the tank began to trundle out of the compound, Ali leaning his head back with a groan and complaining about his headache. Greg just elbowed him, laughing, and Jim couldn't help a smile at the sight of his friend, no longer trembling en route to a mission. And this was a dangerous one. 

"Keep complaining." Sebastian quipped amusedly. "I'll tell them not to send any more cider, Neo team."

"Sure we can cope with a couple more hangovers, sir." 

Max quipped, and Sebastian huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes. Jim remained silent, watching his friend, Dougie still staring dejectedly at the floor. It wasn't exactly the best mindset to be heading into a dangerous mission with and Jim frowned, unhappy. As if sensing his upset, Sebastian slid a hand down, and held Jim's own, resting on the medic's knee, his rough-skinned fingers warm. Jim glanced down at their hands in surprise, conversation rather suddenly dying away in the tank as their comrades turned to gawp at them. Jim could feel heat in his cheeks, and all of a sudden, Dougie's eyes were on him, something a little like raw grief flashing behind his eyes, before they were cold again. He folded his arms across his chest, and glared at the floor, Jim feeling guilty as Sebastian's thumb stroked over the backs of his fingers, the boys not even bothering to conceal their dumbstruck expressions.

"Do we have a problem, Neo team?" The Captain asked coolly after a moment, and all eyes swivelled to him, a few shaking heads, but no one quite managing to utter a full 'No Captain'.

"I said, do we have a problem, Neo team?"

"...NO CAP-TAIN."

This time the answer came properly, and Sebastian smiled, bringing Jim's hand to his lips and kissing it, Jim's cheeks burning. Then he let him go, and turned to the team, face serious. 

"Good." He frowned, fixing his gaze on each of them in turn, seemingly ignoring the surprise that still sat on their damned faces. "Today's mission will be difficult. We're going straight into the heart of the town, and we're taking one of their own. Even if this man turns out not to be one of the Taliban himself, he knows the group operating here at the very least. These men aren't above targeting their own children, so they certainly won't be above gunning every single one of you down. Stay alert, stay alive. Be vigilant."

"How are we supposed to know what he looks like, sir?" Greg asked a little timidly, the other men still gawping at Sebastian and Jim, Jakey having looped a comforting arm around Dougie's shoulders, which Jim pretended not to see. Perhaps the others hadn't been so blind to his affection after all..

"The medic knows what he looks like." Sebastian said firmly. "As does Dougie. They'll lead the group with me, and if they spot him, we'll go after him."

Jim stilled at that, frowning anxiously. Dougie was trying his damnedest not to look at nor speak to him, and Sebastian was pushing them together. He hoped the Captain knew what he was doing. Annoyingly, he supposed it made sense logistically. He and Dougie had seen Hakeemah's father, that night. Jesus fucking Christ, if Jim saw him again he'd strangle the life out of him. Shoot him dead right there.. Hakeemah would have suffered so much at his hands, throughout her short life and almost certainly.. at the end. 

The tank trundled to the outskirts of town and juddered to a halt, Jim standing up immediately, and pulling on his med bag. That thought had filled him with angry determination, and he looked straight at Dougie, copying the Captain's usual words.

"You. With me. Now."

A few titters went through the group, and Dougie scowled at him, before standing too, Sebastian giving a half smile as he lead them from the tank and out into the dust.

"Betsy." The Captain called. "You're on mine detector. Ballbag, you stay with the tank."

"What the hell?"

"We can't leave it unattended. We'll come back and drive it home, only for it to blow when we get to the compound. Every man dead. You want that on your head?"

"Aw, that's not gonna-"

"We have to assume that everything is going to happen. That is my order. Is that understood?"

Ballbag sighed, sitting back down in the tank doorway, gun across his lap. "Yes sir."

"The rest of you, line up. Guns ready. You follow Dougie, Jim and I. You stay close and you stay alert. Wait for our call, and then we take the man. If we see Sadaf, we shoot on sight."

"YES CAP-TAIN."

The men fell into an orderly line, Jim and Dougie standing side by side behind Sebastian, who himself stood behind Betsy with the mine detector. Dougie glared straight ahead, and they began to walk, Jim not sure he'd ever felt so awkward. He shifted the med bag on his shoulders, and then held his gun more tightly, scouting this way and that as they began to cover the last of the hilly patch. The hilly patch where Devo had been shot. Jim swallowed, his mouth dry. That day would haunt him, stick in his mind forever. 

"Are you ever going to speak to me again?" He said quietly, glancing this way and that as he scouted, his words an attempt at nonchalant. His gaze swivelled to Sebastian too, aware that he could hear, and that he'd most likely be listening. 

"That depends." Dougie answered after a stiff moment of silence, his eyes on the hillside as he held his gun, falling into step with the others behind them. "..How long were you going to keep it a secret?"

Jim thought about lying, but eventually answered honestly, voice quiet. Their shoes scuffed in the dust. "..As long as I possibly could."

"You lied to me every day."

"I didn't lie.."

"You didn't tell me the truth. You let me.. go on. Like that. Do you know how humiliating that was?" He gritted his teeth, and Jim didn't answer for a few moments, guilt ravaging his chest.

They were approaching the head of the town, the first few scarce houses coming into view. 

"I'm so sorry." Jim whispered. "..I didn't want anyone to know."

Dougie's gaze found Sebastian, an angry glare. "..When did it start?" He asked in a low mutter, and Jim dropped his gaze to the ground, shifting his gun. "Last night? Last week?"

"..I.. I don't..-"

"When?" The word was firm, angrily loud, and Sebastian's shoulders stiffened in front of them, a few of the men behind them shushing him anxiously.

"Weeks." Jim said meekly, ashamed. "I know I should have told you-"

"You let me kiss you. And he -" He jabbed a thumb at Sebastian as they neared the first few houses, his voice livid in his hurt. "He let me stand there and tell him that I fucking.. that I.."

"Don't say it-"

"Loved you." The words were spat, not with venom this time, but with desperate hurt, and Jim had to look away, Dougie's eyes finding his for the first time in hours,hazel and so angry, so devastated. He stopped walking, and Skeets behind him almost walked into him, Dougie throwing down his gun. The Captain turned around, his expression quickly flitting from surprise to rage, stepping closer. 

"You pick up that fucking gun-"

"I love you."

Dougie's words were broken, his eyes wet, his hands grasping at Jim's around his gun. A lump in his throat, Jim's voice was meek in his throat, blinking at his friend like a deer caught in headlights. "..Dougie.. please.."

"Private." Sebastian's voice was a low growl. "Pick up that fucking gun, and get back in line."

Dougie held Jim's gaze, his hands still on Jim's, the others watching them dumb struck. After a few log moments, he finally looked at Sebastian, anger sliding into his expression. 

"You." He breathed, before his voice became loud, a near desperate shout. "You knew I liked him. You knew I.. I fucking.. I love him..-"

"Dougie, I am warning you." The Captain said, his own voice low in his rage, deceivingly careful. "Get. Back. In. Line."

"Guys, come on.." Max spoke slowly, exasperatedly, pleading with them as he stepped closer, Greg joining him. "Don't-"

Jim stood between Sebastian and Dougie, now squaring up against one another. 

"Sebastian.. Dougie.. please.." Jim tried, but they didn't seem to see him at all, Sebastian's fingers tightening on that gun. 

"You knew!" Dougie yelled, voice seeming to echo in the quiet beginnings of the town, the others glancing around and swearing. The Captain narrowed green eyes, his expression still stony. "You knew, and you fucking took him away..-"

"Private. I'm not going to ask you again."

It was Dougie that threw the first punch, Jim trying to push him back even before The Captain had stopped that fist in its tracks, shortly before Dougie threw himself at him, kicking and screaming, flailing as he tried to hit him. Jim was yelling, pleading for him to stop, pulling him back as the others got involved, each trying to restrain one of the men, though Sebastian threw them off, not trying to hit Dougie in return. He was calm, collected, stepping closer to the raging soldier as he tried to pummel him into mush, trying to calm him as chaos broke out. Jim, caught in the middle, tried to hold his friend's arms, tried his damnedest to make him stop, even when he received a bloody lip for his efforts. 

It was that moment that Sebastian chose to push Jim out of the fray, a hand clasped at his mouth, the Captain grabbing Dougie by the collar, and dragging him away kicking and screaming, lest he hurt someone else.

It was then that the gunshots began. More than Jim had ever heard.

-


	18. Romeo

Deafening.

The noise was deafening, the sudden panic a strangling, inescapable suffocation. In a split second, the world had changed, and Jim was helpless once more, bodies pinning him to the dust, dirt and stone against his cheek, the screaming and the gunfire a roaring cacophony in his ears. He felt blind with panic, suspended in those few seconds, the world spinning and careening madly in the hot sunlight, his heart slamming against his ribs. 

It must have taken the best part of a minute for him to come to his senses. For the adrenaline to kick in. And then Jim was forcing his eyes open, scrabbling for his long lost gun, his hands wet with what he soon realised was Skeets' blood.

They were between two uneven rows of scarce houses, right at the head of the town, huddled in the centre of the dust path in the middle, and Jim forced himself not to look at his comrades, not to hear the screams of his name - not yet, not right now. He needed to get them to safety, whoever was left, whoever hadn't already been shot to pieces. He daren't even look for Sebastian or Dougie, lest they be laying, looking back at him with glassy eyes, twisted and contorted, covered in blood. Adrenaline.

Help. Safe. Shelter. Alert. 

Hands grabbed his own arms forcefully, and then Sebastian was yelling in his face, words that didn't make sense, that Jim couldn't understand. He turned every few moments, firing his gun into the houses on either side of them, and with a great deal of difficulty, Jim forced himself to his feet, wet fingers sliding on the straps of his med bag, Sebastian's yells becoming more outraged, more panicked as he ordered him to get back down. At least, that's what Jim thought he was saying. That ringing, roaring, still filled his ears, and he staggered to one side, bending down to slip his arms beneath Skeets' own, finding Dougie's eyes at long last as his friend grabbed at his shoulder, the yells finally getting through to him. 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET DOWN!"

"Get.. shelter.. sitting ducks.." Jim managed, before beginning to drag Skeets away, Dougie staring after him for a moment before he too was on his feet, dodging bullets as he grabbed someone else - Greg, it looked like - Oh, God no, not Greg... And began to drag him over with him, the two of them looking around wildly, panickedly for somewhere to go. 

"BACK TO THE HILLS." Dougie called, and Jim nodded meekly, his fingers trembling as he dragged Skeets with him, trying to talk to him, to keep him with him, not truly looking at him yet, not until they'd reached the hill - almost a quarter of a mile away, at the end of the houses. In the distance, he could see the men, sprawled on the floor between those lines of houses, crimson coating the dust around them. Shouting, screaming, shooting. Giving as good as they got, even as some of them bled out. Sebastian was ok. Dougie was ok. It was little comfort. Jim felt sick, his world spinning, but there was no time for that. 

"WE HAVE TO GO BACK. THEY'LL DIE THERE." Dougie yelled in his face, and Jim nodded, numb, his hands shaking, letting Dougie pull him back into the fray, covering them both with his gun. 

"Wait!" He called, coming back to his senses just a touch. "I.. I have to treat them.. They'll die.." He pointed back at Greg and Skeets, and Dougie frowned at him, before nodding, calling back.

"JUST GREG. I'LL GET THE OTHERS."

"Be careful!" Jim pleaded, before staggering back towards the injured men, letting Dougie go. His friend dashed back into the fray, covering himself with his gun, Jim watching as he yelled something at the Captain, Sebastian nodding, glancing at Jim, barking another order to the remaining men before beginning to shoot again. Jim felt sick, feeling himself tremble, feeling that bile rise in his throat as he watched Dougie bend down to grab someone else - Ali, it looked like, and begin that long drag over again. Dark figures flitted around in the houses, some of them fleeing back into the town, some of them staying to shoot.

Jim turned, running back and falling to his knees beside his fallen comrades, suddenly wondering why Dougie had asked him to treat 'just Greg'.

He looked blearily at Skeets.

His friend's eyes were open. His face was white. His stomach was blown open, his uniform torn with his body, and he stared up at the sky, already long gone.

-

A half scream left Jim's throat at the realisation, and he clapped his hands to his mouth, eyes wide and wet, disbelieving. He couldn't be. Not Skeets. Not.. dead. It didn't make sense. Only a few hours, a few.. minutes ago, they'd been.. talking..

He tasted blood, realising that he'd smeared it into his mouth from his fingers, and immediately turned to retch over the dust, his stomach clawing itself inside out. Despair and grief threatened to drag him under, and he stared in numb horror at his friend's face for a few more seconds, before shakily reaching over and closing his eyes with two fingers, and then wiping his own eyes roughly on his sleeve.

"..Jim.." Greg's voice was a quiet rasp, and Jim jumped, turning to him and finally forcing himself into action, dropping his med bag into the dust and fumbling to take out everything he had - his instruments, his bandages, his antiseptic spray.. 

"I'm here Greg," He assured him with a tiny voice that was more like a squeak, hovering over him with bloodied, shaking hands as he tried to examine his injuries. 

He'd been shot in the chest. The right side, a little lower than his shoulder, but hopefully missing the lungs. Again in one thigh, that one not as bad, though Jim hurried to tie a tourniquet around it and pad both wounds as much as he could, laying his friend down properly, the adrenaline forcing him to work. "..You're okay.. I'm.. here.."

Dougie returned at that moment, dragging Ali to Jim, his friend groaning terribly, rasping wet sounds that sent ice through Jim's chest, something obviously seriously wrong.

"It's.. gone straight through.." Dougie explained shakily, "One cheek.. Damaged some teeth, but.. I think he'll live. He's in a lot of pain, though.."

Jim nodded, able to see nothing but the blood coating Ali's face, shuddering and swallowing, and trying to move his friend to sit more comfortably, though he seemed as though he was on the cusp of passing out. Jim fumbled in his bag for some painkillers, glancing back at Dougie.

"..Are.. they need to be sheltered, are they under cover?"

"They're behind the other houses, and a wall." Dougie confirmed, shaky himself, teeth chattering despite the intense heat, and clutching his gun like it might go off of its own accord at any moment. Jim nodded, relieved at that. The others weren't sitting ducks any more at least, even if they were still being shot at. It was a miracle they hadn't all been.. killed..

"Jim.." Greg called, less of an actual call than a shuddering whine, his voice quiet. Jim glanced at Dougie.

"We need to call for help on the radio. We need helicopters, air lifting, we need help.."

"Captain's got the radio."

"Then go to him! Now!"

Dougie nodded, dashing back off again, Jim turning to Greg, fingers shaking as he injected Ali with some of the painkillers from his bag, all he could spare, under the circumstances. 

"..Jim..?"

"Yeah, Greg? I'm here, don't you worry. Help's on the way. You just hang in there, yeah?"

"How's.. how's Skeets doing?"

The words broke Jim's heart a little, and he swallowed, glancing over at his friend, pale white and still in death, blood still seeping steadily into the dust.

"Yeah," He said, voice higher than usual as he nodded reassuringly. "Yeah, he's just fine. He's just.. having a little rest, Greg, is all.."

Greg's hand shot out, grasping at Jim's own, his friend's eyes suddenly panicked, his breathing becoming laboured.

"..I don't want to die.. I don't.. I.. Marshy..-"

"Listen to me." Jim said firmly, eyes flitting over his friend's bullet wounds, before glancing back at Sebastian and Dougie, none of the men now in sight as they hid to shoot. "Sebastian is radioing for help right this second. You're going to be just fine. You're not going to die."

"..I... I... I..." The panic attack was coming on strong, Greg beginning to stiffen and thrash, to try and grab at Jim, tearful and unable to catch his breath. Jim forced his friend flat to the ground, terrified of him making his wounds worse, that blood still leaving his body thick and fast.

"I'm here." He assured him, as gently as he could manage. "I'm here and everything's okay. It's all okay, Greg. It's all fine, okay?"

"...Ali.." Greg held out a shaking hand, still breathing hard, eyes wide and panicking. "..A..Ali, hold my.. hold my hand.."

It took a few attempts, Ali's groans finally quieting as the painkillers took effect, but he felt across the dust- blind from his injuries at present, though Jim tried to mop the blood from his eyes - reaching for Greg's hand, and holding it. Jim forced a small smile, a lump in his throat.

"..S.. Skeets.. Hold.. hold my.. hand.."

He reached across the dust again, feeling for his friend's hand, trying in vain to find those fingers that would never search back. Tears welled in Jim's eyes again, and he blinked them away, holding Greg's hand himself, an ache in his chest.

"..Skeets is sleeping.." He told him meekly, with a nod and a smile, squeezing his fingers. "I.. gave him something for the pain."

"You got any more of that?" Greg joked in a voice that was quietly frightened, and Jim had to try not to cry again, so damned proud of him for fighting off that panic attack himself. 

Heavy footsteps sounded behind him, and then Sebastian and Dougie were running towards him, carrying Betsy between them, Jakey and Max covering them from the back with their guns. James II limped along after them all, a bloody hand clamped over a wound on the side of one leg, though he continued to fire behind himself as he winced. Jim stood to meet them, regrettably letting go of Greg's hand, the Captain in business mode, forgetting whatever had been going on between them only minutes ago.

Minutes ago. It already felt like hours. Days.

"Me, Dougie, Jakey and Max are going in after them." Sebastian told him firmly, his voice somehow calm, even as the rest of them floundered, shaking messes of men. He and Dougie helped set Betsy down on the ground, Betsy going white from the effort, both hands coming to rest on a bleeding stomach, thankfully not as bad as..

"Skeets!" James II's voice was agonised, a cry of a yell, and the injured men were all craning their necks, trying to see what was wrong, what had happened.

"Nothing is wrong with Skeets." Jim said firmly, pointing a hand at James to imply that he should shut up, who blinked and nodded, though unable to take his eyes off his friend. "Everyone is fine. Just fine. Now sit down and let me fix that leg."

"..Is Skeets okay?" Betsy asked him in a weak voice, the words so tiny from such a big man, blood seeping from between his fingers over his stomach. Black blood. Gut blood. Oh, God, no..

"He's great, he's fine." Jim brushed off, on his knees and shifting Betsy around to make him more comfortable, immediately pulling apart his uniform to try and pad that bullet hole. "You just think about yourself, Betsy.."

"..M.. my name.."

"Michael. You just think about you, okay?"

Michael gave a weak smile, and Jim swallowed, before giving one back, glancing back up at Sebastian, who was watching with a mixture of rage and despair in his eyes. He knew that look. He'd felt it himself. Helplessness.

"Dougie, Jakey, Max and I are going after them." The Captain announced again. "I've radioed for help, and Ballbag is on his way to help you too. Can you cope here? James is just about able to go on, so he can cover you."

"I don't want to stay here." James II said, his teeth gritted and eyes wet, aflame with anger. He gestured with his gun. "They've killed.. my.. I.. there's no fucking way I'm staying-"

"You'll do as I tell you." The Captain ordered firmly, rounding on James II, squaring up to him, though his words were gentle. "If we leave them alone, we leave them exposed. We leave them without a chance. Oscar's on his way, but he isn't enough. The medic is a target, and we need to go after them before they can come for him. We're not strong enough to maintain an ambush. Are you with me, James?"

James II looked back at Skeets, and then Ali, Greg and Betsy in turn, his bottom lip shaking before he nodded firmly, and cleared his throat, angrily wiping away tears. 

"..I'm with you. I'll cover them."

Sebastian stepped to the side, kissed Jim on the forehead and closed his eyes. "I'll see you soon." He told him, and then he was gone, running back for the houses with his gun held in his arms, Jakey and Max close behind him, and Dougie by his side, turning around at the last minute to shoot Jim a look. It was soft. It was a nod. It was forgiveness.

"Please be careful.." Jim whispered, to no one in particular, squeezing his eyes shut. "I can't.. lose anyone else.."

He had to force himself not to crumble right there, and pressed his fingers hard into his eyes for a moment, before swallowing and kneeling back down in the dust. James II began to pace, limping along side him, covering them as Jim tried to treat his comrades as best he could. 

"You okay, Jim?"

"I'm fine. You keep an eye out for Oscar. Pass me that syringe."

 

-


	19. Sierra

"This is.. this is so.. unfair.." James II told him with a wince as Jim padded his bullet wound, and wrapped roll after roll of bandaging around his thigh. He dropped his voice to a whisper, glancing at the others, a few feet away. "..Skeets.."

"Betsy's dying too." Jim confessed quietly, his voice trembling, unable to keep that fact to himself. "..His stomach. The blood's black. Not.. not often they come back from.. that.."

"No." James II's voice was quietly agonised, desperate, his hands finding Jim's shoulders and shaking him, hard, Jim dropping the roll of bandage. "No, you can't say that." He gritted his teeth, "He can't.. you can't just.. give up-"

"Nobody's giving up." Jim countered, meeting his gaze, pulling out of his hold and picking up the roll of bandage, continuing his work. "..But he's fading fast.. They.." His voice cracked. "..They all are."

He glanced back at the row of four men, laid out in order of seriousness, Greg now holding hands with both Ali and Betsy, though Betsy held out a bloodied hand for Skeets, who was.. yet to move. Never to move again, not of his own free will. Betsy - Michael - had begun to shake, his body cold, his teeth chattering and his eyes seeming to grow more distant, though Jim forced him to keep talking, patted his cheeks when he looked as though he might fall asleep. He couldn't fall asleep. Greg was holding up well, and was singing, a song that they'd all sung together in the tank that time, years ago. Or at least, it felt like years ago.

"Twenty .. green bottles .. hanging..on the wall.. twenty green bottles.. hanging on the wall.."

Ali tapped his fingers along to the song, unable to talk with his face like it was, Jim having laid a bandage over one half of his head, trying to protect the wound from the sunlight, and infection. Betsy joined in with a few words occasionally, shivering, rasping, Jim joining them too, and glaring at James II until he joined in too, the lot of them singing along at Greg's fractured pace, quietly, almost hauntingly so.

"..And if one green.. bottle.. should acc..iden..tall..y.. fall.."

"There'll be nineteen green bottles, hanging on the wall." James II finished, scouting for threats as he paced around them all, Oscar running over at last, his expression drawn, tight with fear. He held his gun tight to his chest, breathless from the run.

"The helicopter's on it's way, it'll be here in a - Holy.. fuck.. SKEETS!"

He fell to his knees beside his friend, ignoring Jim's pleas, an agonised scream leaving his throat as he dragged his bloodied comrade into his arms, holding him there and beginning to rock with him, Greg trying to sit up, to look over, and hurting himself in the process. He yelled, and Jim hurried back, carefully pushing him down, soothing them all, explaining that nothing was wrong, nothing at all, Oscar was just upset. Just being stupid old Ballbag, as per usual, wasn't he? 

"D..d..does he.. h..h..ave a cig.. cigar.. cigare..." Michael's voice was becoming fainter, shakier by the minute, and Jim shushed him softly, holding out a hand to his crying comrade.

"Betsy wants a cigarette." He said calmly, giving him a look. "Will you give him one?"

"..Bets?" Oscar sniffed, climbing to his feet, setting Skeets back down carefully, and walking around to where Michael laid, his friend waving a feeble hand at him, fingers coated with his own blood. His bandages were soaked through already on his friend's stomach, and had only been replaced a few minutes ago. He was dying. He was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do. 

He wouldn't even make it back to Bastion.

"How.. how you doing buddy?" Oscar asked, his throat thick as he pressed a cigarette between Michael's lips and lit it, his friend nodding with a great deal of difficulty, before taking a drag. Oscar took the cigarette away again, for him to breathe.

"...I...I.. I been.. been.. be.. better.." He answered, teeth chattering something awful now, body shaking, trembling in the dust.

"..Greg.." Oscar greeted, Greg closing his eyes, screwing them shut, singing another verse of green bottles. Oscar fell quiet, and then after a moment, joined in, reaching over to hold Ali's hand too, wincing when he tried to look at his friend's face. 

"Eighteen green bottles hanging on the wall.. eighteen green bottles, hanging on the wall.."

"And if one green bottle should accidentally fall..

"There'll.. be.. s.. seven..teen bottles.. hanging on the.. wall.."

"The copter's here!" James II called, pointing upwards, the faint sound of propellers in the distance accompanying the gunfire, which only served to remind Jim that he didn't know where Sebastian or Dougie were, nor Jakey or Max.. if they were even alive. If they were hurt, and without help. The thought was a stone in his gut, and he stood up, waving his hands madly for the copter as it landed on the dust, away from the hills a little while away, three men immediately hopping out and running for them. 

"James, keep covering us!" Jim yelled, terrified of the Taliban striking now, taking out that helicopter and removing any chance that Greg and Ali had. Betsy.. Betsy was already going, even as Oscar helped lift him onto a canvas stretcher, two men taking him, the other lifting Ali to his feet and walking with him, and Jim and Oscar carrying Greg's stretcher over to the copter.

"Wait!" Greg was calling, trying to crane his neck behind himself. "What about - what about Skeets?"

"Can you take him?" Jim pleaded with one of the men, who finally relented, bringing out another stretcher, and helping him load his dead friend onto it, Jim being as careful as he could, heart breaking as he carried him back to the copter, running together across the dust. "Please," He begged, "Don't tell them that he's gone. Not yet. Not until they're okay."

The man just nodded, slammed the copter door shut, and then rose out of the dust, leaving Jim, James II and Ballbag standing in the wind, Jim coated with blood from head to toe, and Oscar still numbly holding that lit cigarette.

-

 

"..What.. now?" James II asked after a moment, when the propellers had died away, and they were left staring up at the sky. Jim merely turned, striding back towards the town, the others turning to jog after him. He paused, bending down to repack his med kit, the floor covered with four patches of blood from where their friends had lain.

He shook his head, straightening and throwing the bag on his shoulders, before finding his gun again. 

"We go and fight."

"Are you serious?" Oscar asked, blinking at him in shock, pointing to those blood patches. "You just saw our friends get blown to fucking smither-"

"I'm not going to sit around and wait for the rest to be brought back to me in body bags." Jim said flatly, and turned around to glare at James II. "You should have gone with them. You're hurt."

James shrugged, wincing a little as he put weight on that leg. "It's not so bad. There was no room in the copter, not if they took.. if.. they.."

"Stop thinking about Skeets."

"I met his mum once." Oscar confessed numbly, and Jim turned to both of them, his expression fierce. 

"Stop it. Stop it now. We go and we fight, and we think about this later because fucking Christ, I can not think about any of it right now. Are you coming with me to help our friends, or are you staying here? I don't care. But decide. Now."

James II cocked his gun, nodding at Jim with determination. "Let's go. Ballbag?"

"Yeah. I'm in. Fuck it, those bastards need to pay. I.. can't.. " His expression was haunted, and he closed his eyes. "I can't think about it either."

With that, Jim nodded, turning to stride back towards the town, his two comrades at his back and fury burning white hot in his chest. As they began to get closer to those two lines of houses, they were close enough to see the blood on the floor that the Neo Team had shed, and fear joined the rage in Jim's chest, suddenly terrified for what they might find. Sebastian as the Captain was a target in himself. Dougie was reckless, he'd throw himself into danger. Jakey and Max would protect them both to the bitter end. Suppose none of them were left?

The gunshots that came, muffled but loud from Jim's left, said differently, and he glanced back at James II and Oscar, cocking his head in that direction. They all began to run, crouched, holding guns tightly, watching eagle-eyed for movements as they slowly began to round house after house, bullet holes blown into walls, blood splattered in various places - theirs, or their enemies, he didn't know.

Jim was the first to see them - almost jumping out of his skin as Sebastian dashed across between two houses, a shower of bullets following him, Jim calling his name before immediately ducking back behind a wall. Relief hit him like a train, not realising how scared he'd been that something had happened to him. Sebastian was his grounding, his foundation, had grown to become Jim's.. base, these past few weeks. The whole world was falling apart, and without Sebastian.. Well. Jim worried that he'd fall apart, too.

"Jim?" Sebastian called back, laying flat behind a short wall, looking around for him when he wasn't shooting over the wall. Jim remained flat against one of the houses, glancing sideways at Oscar and James II, whispering to them urgently. "..Stay close." 

He called to Sebastian, voice loud and concerned.

"..Where's Dougie?"

"He's with the others. Stay back. It's not safe out here."

"It's not safe anywhere." Jim called back, before hearing Dougie's voice, his friend nearer than he'd thought, though he couldn't see him. 

"Jim? Is that Jim?!"

The bright sunlight beat down on them, at odds with how Jim felt. He felt like he was going on autopilot, not letting himself think about Skeets, about Betsy or Greg and Ali, two of the four who would undoubtedly not be going home to their families. He couldn't think about it, not when lives were still at stake, when he was still needed. 

"Yeah, it's me, Dougie."

"Well stay out of sight!"

"I'm not stupid!"

James II shifted anxiously next to him, all three of them dropping down to crouch on the floor as bullets whizzed past them, cracking into the wall right where they'd been standing, someone having obviously heard their yelling. Jim swore, dropping down to his belly and beginning to crawl across the ground, the other two following him closely, Sebastian glancing around at them as they reached him, relief and then terrible anxiety crossing his expression.

"You three shouldn't even be here." He said, breathless. "..The copter come?"

"They've gone." Jim nodded, heart thumping and then; "Where do you want us?"

"Stay close."

Dougie's call came from beside one of the houses, and he edged into view, miming something at the three of them, Jim just relieved to see him in one piece. Jakey walked with him, covering his back, stopping to fire a cascade of bullets into the window of a house, something falling hard with a thunk. Max ran back from behind the house, and threw himself behind the wall, yelling. 

"THAT WAS IT, THAT WAS THE HOUSE. GO!"

The Captain was up with a yell of "Cover me!", the others raising their guns and leaping up to follow him, turning this way and that, looking for any sudden movements, a fresh round of bullets cut off in mid flow as James II spotted the shooter through the window, and got him with a bullet between the eyes, the others whooping. Dougie joined them all of a sudden, grabbing Jim's hand and forcing Sebastian out of the way, shoulder barging the door open to reveal the two men in the ground floor hovel - both wielding machine guns. They seemed to have caught them off guard though, Jim firing wildly for a few moments and the others following suit, the men dropping before they'd even had a chance to lift their guns - and Dougie pointing, running over.

"That's him. That's him isn't it?" He demanded of Jim, pulling up one of the dead men, showing Jim his face. He blinked, rage swelling in his chest, and just nodded.

It was Hakeemah's father.

"..That's him." Jim agreed meekly, and Sebastian nodded, all business again, barking orders.

"Good. Jakey and Max, wait outside. Guard this house while James II and Oscar search upstairs. Dougie, search him."

The team broke apart, James and Oscar thundering up the rickety stairs and the other pair hurrying outside with their guns, more gunfire following soon after, Jim glancing anxiously at the door. Dougie roughly searched the bodies, before stepping over them, coming up with a few coins and notes, a few pieces of paper and more bullets, shaking his head. 

"Nothing, Seb."

All had gone silent upstairs, and after a moment, Sebastian frowned, calling up to the others. "..Anything up there? James? Oscar?"

Silence for a few more moments, and then; "A couple of things, sir."

Oscar's voice sounded weird, and Dougie frowned, stepping closer to the stairs, pushing Jim behind him a little. Sebastian glanced back at that, and frowned. Jim had to force himself not to roll his eyes. Now, even now, after everything that had happened, they still found time for their petty jealousy.

"..Like?"

Another short silence, and then; "Well, sir.." James' voice sounded strained, and then a second later, Oscar burst into unexpected song, the words loud but slow, but immistakeably a song..

"Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find.."

Sebastian, Jim and Dougie all looked at each other, eyes narrowed in bemusement at the 'ABBA'. James II picked up on the next bit, his voice a little croakier, more uncertain.

"I tried to.. reach for you but ...you have closed your mind.."

"What the fuck is going on?" Sebastian muttered, holding his gun a little tighter and edging closer to the stairs, looking uneasy. The words were jarring, out of place, and their comrades' voices were anything but jovial. 

"Whatever happened to our love? I wish I understood.."

Jim's heart was beating irregularly, his body telling him that something was wrong, that he w as missing something.

"It used ..to be so nice, it used.. to be so.. good.."

"Do they think this is fucking funny?" Dougie asked, voice hoarse and angry, starting up the stairs with his gun.

"Oh my God.." Jim whispered, realisation dawning on him with an icy jolt.

'So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me, S.O.S.'

They weren't just singing ABBA. 

No. They were singing S.O.S. 

It wasn't a joke.

They were trying to warn them in the only way they knew how.

"Dougie, no!"

-

 

"Holy.."

His friend's quiet exclamation was quickly silenced as he reached the top of the stairs, everything going quiet again, Jim's heart racing in his chest, already halfway up the stairs after his friend before Sebastian grabbed him, tugging him back down.

"They've got him!" He shrieked, and the Captain held him still, his voice stern, before it dropped to a gentle whisper.

"No. No, Jim. Please."

"Let me go-" Jim was wriggling,desperate, trying his damnedest to get up those stairs, only imagining what could be up there. Guns pointed at each of their heads, undoubtedly. A hoard of explosives.. maybe. Enough to blow them all to bits. Dougie couldn't die. No. No, no, no. He couldn't. He wouldn't let it happen. He writhed in Sebastian's arms, the Captain pinning him against the wall, green eyes pleading with him to stop.

"We need to think, Jim. Please. Think about this. If you go up there, they kill you. You're a target.."

"So what do you want to do, just stand around while they kill them?!" Jim demanded in a shrill whisper, his heart racing.

"No! Just.. please. Wait. Just wait, let me think for a second, we don't need any more casualties today."

"I won't let him die."

"I love you. I won't let you die either."

The words were bittersweet, and Jim screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself to stop fighting, to stop imagining the worst. He stilled, still breathing hard, eyes finding Sebastian's as they stood in stony silence, just listening, tense.

"Comrades."

The call came from upstairs, and Dougie's voice sounded stiff and unnatural, like he was reading from a piece of paper. "It is safe up here."

A moment of uncertainty passed, and then there was a scuffle, the sound of his friend scoffing and telling someone to 'fuck off', and then a yell - from James II this time - a loud and unmistakeable; "SADAF IS-!"

A gunshot sounded, loud and echoing, and then a scream, Dougie's, a long and excruciating "JAMES!". 

Sebastian screwed his eyes shut, Jim half collapsing in his arms, his heart sinking, falling right into his stomach, that bile rising in his throat at the realisation of what had happened. He began to thrash again, fighting to get to the stairs. It had all been so fast, Dougie undoubtedly trying to keep them away, James II giving his life to let them know that Sadaf was up there. The ring leader. 

"No.." Jim whimpered, beating feebly at the Captain's chest. "..No.. I need to help.. Sebastian.. please.. let me..-"

He might still be alive. Just.. maybe.

"No more." Sebastian growled, "..No more death."

He pulled his radio from his pocket, and ordered an airstrike, Jim's eyes widening as he realised what was happening. His words were quietly resigned, codes and coordinates, 'imminent' and 'extreme threat', mixed with 'Taliban leader' and 'severe casualities'.

An airstrike gave them minutes at most. And Dougie and Oscar were trapped up there - James II as well, if he was still alive. Sebastian slipped his radio away, and stepped closer to the stairs, speaking in a loud, authoritative voice, making his English clear.

"I have ordered an air strike. You have three minutes. You will die."

Silence.

"You can come down and fight like men. Or you will die in fire and smoke."

The words were met with silence again as expected, and Jim was shaking, pulling himself from the Captain and running to the door to tell Jakey and Max to get as far away as possible, ignoring their horrified expressions. Sebastian's words were no good. The men would never come down. They'd take Neo team with them if they were going to die, they wouldn't walk down the stairs to face their death. It was pointless. The airstrike would slaughter them all.

"I'll get them out." He promised Jakey and Max, glancing up at the house above him. "..I will. Go."

Sebastian's words rang in his head. 'You're a target'.

After staring at him for a moment, Jakey threw his arms around his shoulders, Max ruffling his hair before they were both running, guns held high, still shooting as they went, cursing it all to hell. Jim's heart was in his throat, a plan in his mind as he slipped around the side of the house, facing the upstairs window as he stood in the dust and dropped his gun, his hands held high. 

He had no other option. He wouldn't let them down.

He had to do this.   
For Skeets. For James II.

He sucked in a breath, and in the loudest yell he could manage, roared his mother's name. 

"MARGARET MCINTYRE."

-

Nothing, for a long few moments. And then a bearded face appeared at the window, a gun pointed directly at Jim's head from the second floor. The man looked at him for a long moment, studying him, before he ducked back inside, talking in excited Pashto to his comrades. 

"Jim, no!" Dougie's voice was angry, loud from inside the house. "What the hell are you doing?"

"For God's sake, medic!" Sebastian's voice was louder, furious, but panicked with it. "Get the fuck back inside!"

"You're welcome." Jim called, before returning his gaze to the window. One of the men was climbing out, not once diverting that gun from Jim's head as he threw himself down the two stories, rolling onto his back and then leaping up again, Jim not moving a muscle. The man paced over to him, looking him over, and then shouted something back in Pashto, though his mother's name was audible in there somewhere. Confirming him, then. It had to be. Jim swallowed, nervous. Another face appeared at the window with a neatly trimmed beard and more expensive clothes. Almost Western looking clothes. Smug, calm expression. 

Sadaf. It had to be. 

The moment of distraction was all his friends needed. The whir of a plane engine could be heard in the distance. The airstrike was coming.

"RUN, OSCAR!"

Dougie's voice was a roar, and seconds later, he threw himself onto Sadaf, bringing him straight out of the window and down two stories onto the dusty ground, Sadaf taking the impact with a pained yell and the mad firing of his gun, Dougie holding onto the barrel, wrestling with it, trying to point it away from himself.

"Dougie!" Jim yelled, terrified, his heart shooting into his throat before he leapt on the other Taliban fighter, the man having turned to point his gun at Jim's friend instead. The man began to swing wildly, trying to throw him off, firing at all angles, Jim pulling him, pushing him, feeling him collapse beneath him as the Captain appeared and shot him through with bullets. 

Hell, he'd never been so glad to see Sebastian in all his life. He threw himself away from the crumpled man.

Dougie was still wrestling with Sadaf's gun, Jim already running over to them before a hand grabbed at his ankle - dead man apparently not dead yet, and pulling him straight down with a dizzying slam onto the hard ground. The air was torn from his lungs, and the Captain was on them in seconds, despite Jim's screaming for him to help Dougie, strong arms lifting him up as a gun began to fire again, the half-dead Taliban soldier still trying to help his boss as Sebastian carried him away.

"LET ME GO. PUT ME DOWN. DOUGIE NEEDS-"

"No-"

Jim was screaming, panicking, hitting at Sebastian's back, the world turned upside down as he tried to turn back, to look for Dougie, alone with a Taliban leader and one of his dying henchmen.

"NO! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU-"

"Airstrike-" Was all Sebastian answered gruffly, running with Jim over one shoulder, and throwing him down a hundred yards away, before turning to run back himself. Jim was back on his feet within seconds, racing acoss the dust as the plane engines got louder and louder, screaming his friend's name. Dougie was now somehow on his feet, eyes wide as he struggled with a robed arm around his neck, Sadaf's eyes wild with rage, and settling on Jim and Jim alone as he ran closer.

Something glinted in his grasp. 

Sebastian began to shoot, shouting orders pointlessly, desperately. Jim snatched up his own gun, screaming as he shot round after round, running flat out, desperate and blind with panic.

His heart slammed in his ribs, dust in his eyes, the plane slicing through the air above them, dropping that strike on the house, the world exploding into smoke and fire. Jim was thrown violently into the air, his gun torn from his hands, life flashing before his eyes. The seconds slowed into minutes. Dust. Fire. Bullets. A slow smile on Sadaf's face, and Sebastian's arm rough around Jim's waist .

His eyes found Dougie's at the very moment the knife sank deep into his best friend's throat.

-


	20. Tango

White.

Jim had never liked the colour white. Throughout his life, it had seemed to represent things that he didn't have, or that had been taken from him. Innocence. Purity. Peace. Calm. None of those words had ever described him, and none of them were easy to gain. But white was plain. Colourless, and boring. And Jim had certainly never been those. He'd always been the best - the best at science, the best in his medicine degree, even if he hadn't been the best at being a medic. Well. Far from the best, actually. The white coat of the doctor didn't exactly describe him either.

White seemed to overwhelm him at the moment. Surround him, engulf him from every side, thick and suffocating, a quiet ringing in his ears. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, loud and slow, and had a quiet moment of reflection, bemused as he tried to remember how he got here. How he reached this state of oblivion.

For the first time in his life, he felt peaceful. Alone with the silence.

If only it could have lasted longer.

Realisation, pain and noise hit him all at once, an explosion of sensation that brought him back down to earth with a bang.

Dust and ash scratched, painful and burning in his throat. He blinked, breathless, eyes watering, clogged with dirt and smoke, forcing air into his lungs, something steely tight around his middle, stones and dust in his mouth against dry lips. He spluttered, sitting up, clawing at his throat in a fog of thick smoke and sand, unable to see anything, wondering for a moment whether he was blind, before it began to clear just a touch, that ringing still loud in his ears. The sound was accompanied by a cacophony of noise - yelling and screaming, engines, all faint in the distance, and Jim tried to move, to remember what had happened before he'd been knocked for six.

That steel around his waist pulled at him, and he turned around, head throbbing, squinting into the dust. Sebastian lay beside him, holding him close, his face covered in ash and dust, his eyes closed. Jim's heart stopped, plummeting into his stomach, shaking hands immediately finding the Captain's face, holding his cheeks, his own fingers caked in black filth. 

"..Seb.." He couldn't even choke out his full name, his voice a hoarse shadow of itself, throat still burning. "..Plea..se.."

He felt with trembling fingers for his pulse, and found one, a sob catching in his throat with his relief, throwing himself down onto him, hugging him close, hands feeling gingerly for injuries, searching for blood. He found none. A bang to the head, then.. 

But from what?

He tried to think, his mind foggy, bringing back only memories of loud engines, of the bang, and then of what seemed like hours earlier.. Skeets.. Greg.. Ali and Betsy.. And then.. and then James and Oscar had helped him get them into the copter. Yes. Yes, he remembered that.

He screwed his eyes shut, hiding his face in Sebastian's chest as he forced himself to think, still groggy in the thick black fog, the Captain's radio screeching and humming at him, Jim opening one eye to look at it.

Airstrike.

Sebastian had called an airstrike.

Yes.. that was it.. They'd been..standing in the house. Jakey and Max had gone outside. Oscar and James had gone upstairs.

S.O.S.

They'd started singing, singing to warn them. Jim remembered that now. But there was more, he knew it. There had to be, and he gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing himself to think. The smoke was everywhere, the dust still choking him, and he began to cough hard, body wracked as he held onto Sebastian, the Captain still knocked clean out. 

Margaret McIntyre. His mother. 

The thought snapped back to him, and everything else came in a flood, a breath catching in Jim's throat, and panic igniting in his chest. They were trapped upstairs with an airstrike imminent. He'd taken a chance, tried to get them out, tried to pull the focus onto himself instead. He was a target. Sebastian had said it. He was a target. He'd screamed his mother's name. 

The two men had come after him. The first man.. deathly injured by Sebastian's bullets.. Grabbing Jim to pull him down to the ground.. Sebastian had grabbed him, tried to take him to safety..

Jim nodded along with his own thoughts, heart beginning to pound unsteadily as his gaze searched the black smoke, not sure quite yet what he was looking for.

The house had exploded. And in that split second, brick and fire and being thrown into the air.. He'd seen..

His hazy mind clicked all at once.

Dougie.

His throat.

Red welling at the blade's edge as it sank through the skin.

"NO!"

The word, intended as a scream, left Jim's lips as an ashy, choked whisper, his mouth bone dry as he threw himself away from Sebastian, beginning to crawl along the ground, the dusty earth hot, crumbling beneath his fingertips. "..No.. no.." He continued to whisper, desperate, heart aching, thudding, pleading with himself to have imagined it, to not have seen that, to have made it up in a moment of delusional shell shock.

"..Dougie..?" He croaked tearfully, though his eyes were dry, itching from the smoke, his muscles shaking as he dragged himself across the ground, heart already breaking when he didn't find an answer. He glanced back, trying to keep an eye on his unconscious Captain through the dust, not wanting to go too far. He just needed the.. damned.. smoke to clear.. All this.. dust..

"..D.. Dougie.." He tried again, squinting, his voice a pitiful squeak, making it a few more metres before he collapsed, coughing rather violently into the dirt, eyes closed and his arms shaking as he tried to pick himself up. 

He almost didn't hear it. 

The ghost of a sound, hidden behind the roaring, the ringing in Jim's ears, almost not enough to catch his attention. A rasp. A choking, rattling rasp, that had Jim rolling onto his back, forcing himself up again, dizzy and staggering around through the dust and smoke, which was gradually beginning to clear.

"..Dougie?"

His eyes settled on a figure, sprawled on the ground, and Jim threw himself towards it, his heart in his throat. The word 'no' ran through his mind again and again, matching the frantic beats of his heart, and he came to a standstill as the figure moved, dark eyes fixing on his own as the man gave another rattling rasp. 

Sadaf. 

Jim stood, dumb struck, just staring, breathing, dizzy himself, his body aching. And then his gaze skimmed across the body beside the dying Taliban leader, and he dropped down to his knees, word a choked whisper.

"..Dougie."

-

His friend was almost unrecognisable, as thick with soot and dust as the rest of them, though he wore a red collar of his own blood, trembling hands clasped to his throat. Alive. He was alive - the realisation tore through Jim with a relief so thick that he could have sobbed, hands finding his friend's cheeks. 

"Dougie.." His voice was still a hoarse croak, but he was smiling, smiling and not looking at his throat, at the crimson that kept spilling over his best friend's fingers. Dougie's eyes swivelled from left to right, glassy as they searched for whoever was saying his name, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he finally managed the tiny;

"..Jim?"

"It's me," Jim assured, his eyes wet, crawling closer on his knees and reaching back for his med bag, which had inexplicably disappeared in the chaos. "I'm here." He glanced around desperately for it in the smoke, but there was no sign - and he hurriedly began to pull off his jacket, leaving him in his t shirt as he pressed the thick khaki material to his friend's throat, gently peeling away those bloodied fingers. The fabric became crimson within a matter of seconds, and tears pricked in Jim's eyes, panic settling in his chest. 

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be. It couldn't. He'd found him, found him alive. It was fate, it had to be. 

"You're going to be just fine," He promised in a rasp, before beginning to cough again, turning his head, the coughing fit wracking his body, smoke in his lungs. He took a long breath, having managed to keep his hands on that jacket. "Just fine, Dougie. I promise. They're.. they're going to send another copter."

Wet, warm, trembling hands came to rest over his own, Dougie's thumbs stroking over his fingers weakly, his eyes still fixed glassily on Jim, his words a quiet and pained rasp, though they were soft. Gentle.

"..I.. m'dying.. Jim.."

"No.." Jim's eyes were wet again, blurring his vision, and he had to blink the tears away, turn his head to wipe his face roughly on his arm. "..No.. they're coming.. They're coming for you, don't.."

Those hands weakly squeezed his own, and Dougie's eyes were wet too, eyelashes clinging together as he squeezed them shut for a moment. 

"..I lov.. love.. y.. you.." He managed, and Jim shook his head hard, mouth turned tight down in a trembling frown, defiant in his despair.

"No. No, don't you say that. Don't you start.. saying your goodbyes, not yet. Do you hear me, butter balls?"

Dougie laughed, the sound weak, the slight movements sending a painful wince through his expression, though he kept that silly smile on his lips. Jim swallowed, his fingers gradually becoming wet with blood, the jacket soaked through, his medical mind trying to force acceptance on him. That Dougie didn't have a chance. That even if the copter arrived this very second, he likely wouldn't make it even inside the vehicle. 

His croak was pitiful, pleading. "..B.. but I'm here to save you. Dougie.. I'm here to save you. I'm here.."

He received a small shadow of a smile in return, Dougie's hazel eyes slipping shut, the words less than a sleepy whisper. 

"Y.. you.. did. Save.. me."

Those hands slowly became loose around his own, and Jim leaned down, pressing his face to Dougie's chest, his own body wracked with coughing sobs, the soot on his face streaked with tears. 

"..N.. no. Dougie, no.. No.. Please.." He squeezed his eyes shut, found those hands, squeezed them tight, pleading. "..Please don't.. leave me.."

He received no reply, no attempt at a smile this time. No squeeze of his hands. He tried in vain to find his friend's heart beat in his chest, to feel it pound against his cheek, but all he could feel was stillness, his friend still warm. 

"I love you." He told him, a tearful squeak, his eyes forced shut, body wracked by his own sobs. ".. I did.. I .. did.."

He'd loved him, truly. As a best friend, as something he'd never had before. As a running partner, as that first friend, showing him around on his first day, and reassuring him when the Captain was still a terrifying authority. As his joker, his personal comedian, his punch-him-in-the-shoulder-when-he-got-too-much best friend. The friend that had.. followed him out into the desert, risking his own life and job, just to make sure that he was okay. The friend that had grown to love him, even when Jim's heart was already taken. The friend that had run fifty laps around the compound, just to stand up for what he believed in.. held Jim's hand when he felt like he needed it.

He'd deserved so much better.

Jim sat down in the dirt, his crying becoming hysterical - harsh, violent sobs that were interspersed with his coughing, his breaths torn from him occasionally - as he pulled his friend into his lap, cradling him there, the blood still warm as it seeped through his uniform. He rocked with him slowly, feeling him grow cold, his own body trembling as he spoke to the sky, still thick with smoke. "..No.. no.. no.."

He sounded like a child, he knew - his crying was loud, undignified, jarring in the chaotic silence of the desert, but he no longer cared. His best friend was dead. Dougie was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was helpless once more, forever helpless, and pressed his lips to his friend's hair, shaking as he cried against him, no longer caring about anything. About war. About medicine. About.. love.

The thought made him look up, eyes wet and red, bleary as he looked around for Sebastian, on autopilot as he checked that he was alright. He couldn't see him through the smoke, and realised that sooner rather than later, he'd have to return to him, to help him, to find and help the others. He couldn't sit here and let the world turn him into dust... as much as he wanted it. 

He looked down at Dougie again, and his eyes welled with tears, unable to think about leaving him, about letting him go, laying him down here and walking away. He couldn't. Couldn't do that, wouldn't do that, couldn't cope with even the idea of that.. 

Shakily, he slid his arms under his best friend's back and legs, and forced himself to his feet, straightening with Dougie in his arms, not sure how he was carrying him. Dougie was taller, heavier, especially in a full uniform and boots - but if it was this, or leave him.. Jim had no alternative. He staggered, still crying, his breaths hitching, trying to figure out which direction he'd come from - which way it was back to Sebastian, the smoke thick and disorienting. 

"..It's.. okay.. Dougie.. don't you worry.." The words were numb, weak and hoarse, his hitching breaths still fracturing his sentences. "..We'll.. find him.. we'll get you.. home soon.."

He staggered this way and that, Dougie's head resting against his chest, at one point encountering the charred remains of the house, which reminded him of Hakeemah, a fresh wave of grief hitting him. 

"..You're.. with her now, Dougie.." He promised his friend. "..You can.. take care of her.. like we.. like we wanted, okay?" He headed in the other direction, stone and debris crunching beneath his boots as he stumbled, his teeth beginning to chatter despite the heat as he wandered through the battlefield. 

"..Twenty green.. bottles... hanging on the.. wall.. Twenty green.. bottles.. hanging on the.. wall.."

His song was a little haunting, but comforted him, his arms numb and leaden, pausing occasionally to kiss his friend's forehead, before staggering on in the next direction, tears still rolling steadily down his cheeks. 

He was thrown clean over when he tripped on something, stumbling and crashing down into the hard ground, managing to save Dougie from falling, but seeing stars himself, winded as he lay. "..I'm sorry.." He promised his friend, stroking his hair back from his face, his voice pained, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry.."

He looked back to see what it was that he'd tripped over - only to find Sadaf looking back at him, those black eyes watching him with calm venom, body half mangled on one side from the house explosion. Jim held that gaze for a long moment, and fury welled in his chest. Unrestrained, unbridled anger like nothing he'd ever felt before in his life. More explosive than the loathing he'd held for his father. More visceral, the pain of the grief in his chest like a hole torn there, unable to face the life ahead without his best friend. 

He'd killed Hakeemah and her mother.   
He'd killed Skeets.  
He'd killed James II.  
And he'd killed Dougie, made Jim watch that light fade from his best friend's eyes.

"You." He breathed, the word shaking with his rage, careful, so careful as he set Dougie down on the ground, laying him out gently in the dust. He stood again, his fists clenched, taking a couple of staggering steps over to Sadaf, who opened his mouth to spit hoarse, venomous words at him in Pashto, though didn't attempt to move. Jim bent down, and curled his fingers into the dust, around that blade that was now half coated with ash. That blade that had cut through his best friend's throat. 

"You don't deserve to share the same knife." Jim growled at him, before swiftly and violently plunging it into the Taliban leader's chest, holding his gaze as he screamed, writhing and spluttering, the blood spurting from him in an arc. 

He didn't stop there. He withdrew the knife, and slammed it back down again. And again. And again. Sadaf's chest, his stomach, his arms. His throat, his face - any part of him that he could reach, both hands around the knife hilt, his expression crazed. A scream of mad desperacy left him, his eyes wet again, continuing his onslaught long after the Taliban leader's eyes had gone glassy, until his arms were bloodied to the elbow, until his uniform stuck to him wetly with crimson. 

Still, he kept going. The knife was blunted, the man long dead, but Jim was sobbing again, still slamming it down, again and again, his limbs aching and his fingers shaking. At long last, strong, warm hands closed over his own, and then he was being pulled back hard, pulled against a warm chest, hands ghosting over his cheeks, through his hair, green eyes watching him concernedly.

"It's alright, medic." Said a gentle voice, thumbs wiping the blood from beneath his eyes, Jim utterly coated in crimson. "..It's alright. I've got you. He's dead. He's gone."

"He's gone." Jim repeated with a croak, before collapsing against Sebastian's chest, another coughing fit dragging him into unconsciousness. 

He was gone. 

His best friend was gone.

-


	21. Uniform

Sebastian carried Jim back to where the others stood - mostly because he didn't have the energy to walk himself, still shivering as the Captain held him in his arms, not even able to find it within himself to feel pathetic. Numb. He felt.. empty. That ringing still filled his ears, and he stared blankly at his surroundings, still wet with blood - either Sadaf's or Dougie's, he wasn't sure. It didn't feel fair for their blood to mingle, not when Dougie's was so pure. Innocent. Jim's eyes ached for tears, but he couldn't seem to summon any, his gaze dry and scratchy as he rested his head against Sebastian's chest, the Captain talking to him quietly.

He couldn't hear what he was saying. It didn't matter.

 

None of it. 

Sebastian was warmth and safety, neither two of those things that Jim deserved, but he'd take them anyway. 

"..Oh.. Hell.."

Oscar's voice was hoarse, appalled, and Jim tried to find it in himself to look up at his friends as they arrived back at the tank. But he couldn't. Or wouldn't. He wasn't sure.

 

"Jim?" Jakey and Max crowded him, before Sebastian spoke, his words tired but firm.

"He's fine. In shock, I think, but he'll be fine."

"He's covered in-"

"Not his own."

Jim closed his eyes, and a hand squeezed his own, though he couldn't quite muster the strength to squeeze back. The next thing he knew, or maybe the next wave of consciousness that he was aware of - they were inside the tank, much too big, much too empty, riding in silence back to the compound. Somewhere in the back of his head, he remembered a conversation about the commanders, knew somehow that they'd need to stay until morning at least - but wasn't entirely sure how he recalled that. Warm arms still held him, fingers stroking rhythmically through his hair, the quiet a solemn and mourning silence. Jim let his eyes settle on each empty space from the safety of the Captain's chest.

Skeets. Gone for ever.  
Betsy. Most likely dead.  
Greg. Shot to pieces.  
Ali. Scarred for life.  
James II. Executed.

Dougie..

His eyes became wet, and Jim screwed them shut, his mouth dry and trembling.

 

"Jim?" Sebastian said quietly, hopefully, but Jim was gone again, sinking down into the depths of his loss. His hopelessness. 

"Did we get James' body?" Jakey asked hoarsely, and the Captain shook his head minutely. Ballbag was driving.

"Oscar tried to bring him. Almost got blown to pieces. He had to run, in the end."

Jakey nodded, looking away. Max gave him a nudge.

"James wouldn't have wanted him hurt."

"No." Sebastian agreed, and that was the last Jim heard.

 

-

  
Talking.

Lots of talking, all around him, but not close to him. He was sitting down. On canvas, on blankets, though he still wore his full uniform and his boots, his hands still crusted with blood, dried and beginning to crack around his knuckles. His gaze was fixed on a stack of papers that sat on Sebastian's desk, and he just thought as he stared, thought about nothing and everything, the whole world and then the blankness of the sky. He came to slowly, eyes swivelling to the canteen of water that sat on the bed beside him, the jerrycan of minced beef, potato and gravy that was slowly congealing. It looked cold, and he wondered idly, in the back of his mind somewhere, just how long it had been there.

The voices were not all known to him, he realised slowly after a few long minutes, still staring at that stack of papers. Two or three of them were tinny, likely from a phone, arguing over each other, Sebastian's voice quiet and tired as he answered. He must be on a conference call, Jim realised. No doubt to the commanders, trying to plan their next move. Though what move that could be, Jim didn't know. 

Only five left of the NEEA team. Greg, Betsy and Ali were being treated at Bastion, if they weren't already dead. Devo, probably at home by now.

Skeets. James II. 

Dougie.

They'd never go home again.

A sound a little like a pained gasp left Jim's chest, and a second later, Max ran into the tent, looking hopeful.

"Jim?" He said, words quiet and urgent, hopeful as he bent down, his eyes finding the medic's. "Jim? You.. you back with us?"

Max was the one who had ratted him out to Sebastian - about Dougie and himself, sneaking back in after dark. They'd crept past him, fast asleep on the wall. Dougie had run until he nearly passed out the next day, trying to pay for their 'crime'. Jim could hear that breathless laugh in his head, those quiet words of encouragement. Feel his arms around him on the dust as he passed out himself, his friend anxiously tipping water into his mouth, urging him to get back up, that he could do this. That they could do this together. For Hakeemah.

_And now you have to do it for me._

"I can't." He whispered aloud, eyes still fixed on that paper stack, Max' face a blur in the corner of his eye as he frowned concernedly, before straightening, a touch resigned. His voice was a little broken, and after a moment, he couldn't feel Dougie's arms around him anymore. He was alone in the tent, and he was cold. His chest felt cold. 

"..Still the same." Came Max' voice from outside, quietly worried, yet resigned. 

"Give him time."

 

-

 

That call seemed to go on all night, and when Sebastian finally stepped back into the tent, Jim was no longer on the bed.  The Captain spun where he stood, anxious for a moment, before he spotted him in the corner, knees held to his chest, face resting against his knees, his skin still coated with dried blood.  Jim was only vaguely aware that he was there, moreso when the Captain bent down, helping him to his feet and silently putting an arm around his waist, walking him slowly out of the tent and across the compound.

Max, Jakey and Oscar were sat out in front of the shower block, all wrapped in blankets despite the heat, talking quietly to one another, and shakily sipping cans of cider. They stood when they saw Jim, Jakey making to walk over before Oscar stopped him with a hand and a minute shake of his head. Jim just walked. One foot, two foot, one foot.. that arm around his waist did most of the work for him, and Jim dragged his bleary gaze to the setting sun, wondering idly how many of them he'd seen since he'd been here. How much everything had changed between the first, and the last. 

"..We're going home, tomorrow."  Sebastian told him quietly. "..I've requested for the NEEA team to be disbanded. No one else will wear our badges."

Jim didn't say a word, merely stared straight ahead. He was thinking about sunsets. When would Dougie's last sunset have been?

"The boys made it to Bastion. Betsy's critical, but they think he'll last the night."

He knew the last sunrise, of course. That was yesterday morning, when he caught Jim with Sebastian. When he threw that flask of tea down in the dust at Jim's feet. The last day that they had together, and they'd spent it arguing. And the last time they'd spoken before that.. Jim had yelled at him. Told him that he didn't love him, asked how he could  possibly love him.

  
"We can't stay out here. The commanders are saying that a few of the boys could be posted elsewhere, but I put my foot down. They need leave. They need to go home. Mental trauma can be more damaging than.."

Those final words ghosted through Jim's mind, his heart aching something terrible as he thought about it. His fingers, wet with crimson, pressed to his friend's bleeding throat..

_I'm supposed to save you._

You did save me.  


 

Jim's legs buckled beneath him, and Sebastian swore quietly, dipping down to catch him, Max dropping his cider as he jumped up to help, though the Captain waved him away.

"He's fine. He's fine. I've got him."

He helped him carefully into the med tent, setting Jim down carefully on the examination table, the paper crinkling as he sat up weakly, arms hugging his own chest. The Captain looked at him, and Jim thought he could see despair in Sebastian's eyes for a moment, just a flicker behind the worry before he pressed his lips to the medic's forehead in a kiss.

  
"Let's get you cleaned up." He said quietly, and then turned away, filling a basin with water from the tap - one of the rare water sources that wasn't in the shower or kitchens. Jim's gaze travelled to the shoes on the table as the Captain worked, just gazing at them, wondering if Dougie and Hakeemah were together now. Dougie, Hakeemah, Skeets and James II. If it weren't for Sebastian, he might want to join them.

 

His eyes found the Captain as he bent down in front of him, gently holding Jim's chin with his fingertips as he dabbed at his face, the water stinging cuts that Jim hadn't even realised he had. The cotton wool came away crimson, the water in the bowl gradually beginning to pinken, and he sat as still as he could, numb gaze occasionally wandering to Sebastian's green eyes. The concern in them was thick. The weariness even thicker. He had to be exhausted, but he never wavered, working until Jim's face was clean of blood. His hands were gentle as they worked, tossing away ball after ball of red cotton wool, before finally bringing Jim's fingers to rest in the water, and carefully rubbing them clean with his own.

Jim remained silent, still, and Sebastian spoke quietly, the words a plea as he crouched in front of him, eyes soft.

"..Please come back to me."

 

-

 

He slept in Sebastian's bed that night, the Captain's arms around him, his legs behind his own, almost as if Sebastian was desperately trying to keep him safe,a day too late. Somewhere behind the haze, Jim knew that they were going home the next morning - that they'd be taken back to Bastion, and then shipped out back to England. Back to respective families.. His mother. 

Families that Dougie, Skeets and James II would never see again.

 

Sebastian had forced him to shower, stood guard outside his cubicle while he washed himself, though Jim suspected that it was more to make sure that he didn't fall down again rather than anything else. He merely stood underneath the hot water, watching it run red, watching the last reminder of Dougie drip from his skin. Afterwards, Sebastian held out a towel, whispering a quiet "..Please, Jim," when he didn't take it, before stepping into the cubicle after another few moments, and wrapping him up in it himself. 

He held him until he fell asleep himself, though Jim remained awake for much longer, and at long last, turned in his Captain's arms, and gently shook him awake.

Sebastian's eyes opened slowly, like he was blinking his way through deep water, and his voice was thick with sleep, bemused and quietly hopeful.

"..Jim?"

"..I want.. to go.. home with you.."

It was the first thing he'd said in hours, and his voice was a pitiful croak, his eyes searching Sebastian's, still raw with grief. The Captain looked at him for a half second, and then merely pulled him close, his embrace crushing, words quietly desperate in his relief.

"..Thank God.. Thank.. fucking.. God.."

 

-

 


	22. Victor

The goodbyes were the worst part.

Jim had woken up the next morning, wrapped in Sebastian's arms, the two of them having stayed up until the early hours just holding each other, kissing occasionally, just being close to each other. Jim hadn't cried, as much as he'd wanted to. He wasn't sure he could cry ever again, actually. They'd fallen asleep at last, warm and quiet, Sebastian's arms around him. Waking up was slow and confusing, wondering why it was so bright outside, wondering why he wasn't up and running, and sitting up rather hurriedly, not wanting to be on the end of the Captain's anger. 

Realisation hit him like a fist to the gut, and he swallowed hard, taking a long and shaky breath. 

Sebastian stayed close as he dressed, held his hand as they walked to the mess hall, the others already in there but the place pitifully empty. The last breakfast was a morose affair, Max cracking weak jokes, everyone else remaining silent, Sebastian eventually reassuring them that they'd all be fine as they dug into their toast and eggs, the cooks and their Afghan brothers watching them with pity. Oscar kept smiling at Jim hesitantly, seemingly relieved that Jim was less comatose than yesterday, though Jim couldn't find it in himself to return them. He still felt empty, a hollow, carved out version of himself. He was relieved when he was allowed away to pack his things, no longer having to nod along, to try and act normal.. to crumble again in peace. Sebastian had left him to himself for a while to pack his own things, and the silence was both a blessing and a curse.

So many thoughts. So much darkness.

Dougie's empty bed. 

His tea flask and a photograph of his family, still sat on the tiny table beside the canvas. Opened letters, a half eaten biscuit bar, a t shirt rumpled beneath his pillow. Jim stepped closer, sat down gingerly on the bed, thankful that none of the others were in here. He reached over, resting a hand on the pillow, his throat thick again. He couldn't even think about it without that aching, gnawing pain in his chest.

I'm supposed to save you.

You did save me.

He tilted his head at the t shirt, frowning a little as he pulled it from beneath the pillow, holding it in his hands. Something clicked, and he closed his eyes.

It was his own t shirt.

The realisation was a lump in his throat, an icy wash of anger and despair that settled in his chest, fading to numbness just as quickly. It was his own. Dougie had been sleeping with Jim's t shirt. He didn't want to think about why. Maybe trying to feel close to him, or something equally as fucking heartbreaking.

Jim packed up his best friend's things neatly in a box, leaving his t shirt with them. A whole life, in a cardboard box. It seemed wrong. Fucking.. disgusting, even. Painful emptiness in his chest, Jim headed outside with the box of things, a thousand times more important than his own. This would be all Dougie's parents had left of him. All Jim had left of him, too. 

The goodbyes were always the worst part.

-  
Fourteen hours later.. and Jim was at home. 

It flew by - their things packed in the tank and Sebastian holding him tight as they did the last checks around the compound, before saying goodbye to their Afghan brothers. They hugged them all, Jim still numb, minutes later already halfway across the desert, that same bizarre emptiness in the tank, even with all their things in here. In normal circumstances, Bastion would have sent an extra truck for all their possessions. As it was.. they hadn't needed to. The vehicle was packed full with bags and boxes, photographs and personal effects, clothes and boots. And less than half belonged to the men riding in the tank. Jakey made the mistake of commenting on that fact, Max punching him in the arm, and telling him in no uncertain terms that 'they're not fucking dead yet'.

Jim almost pointed out that at least three of them were, but decided against it, merely resting his head on Sebastian's shoulder. The Captain shot the men a look that was both tired and reprimanding at the same time, and they quietened, Max nudging Jakey after a moment to apologise.

Arriving at Bastion was madness. Jim immediately retreated into the safety of Sebastian's arms as their tank was overwhelmed by soldiers, all yelling their names, wanting to talk to them, to congratulate them for Sadaf, to express commiserations. A few of them were clapping, stepping back to applaud them as they left the tank, and Jim's fingernails dug hard into his palms, squeezing his eyes shut and letting Sebastian and his comrades push him along. He deserved no celebration. He deserved no clapping, none of it. It was unbearable, and he was seconds from snapping, turning to scream at them all..

A commander finally quietened them all, and ushered the lot of them inside. Into the hospital wing. 

"..Jim?"

Oscar's voice was concerned, his hands on Jim's arms as they waited outside the ward, shielded from the world from only a long flap of canvas. Sebastian had slipped inside, speaking quietly to the men and women on duty, and Jim had taken the opportunity to crumble against the wall, heart thumping in his chest, suddenly terrified about what they'd find. Suppose none of them had survived? Suppose Greg had bled out, and Ali's face had become infected?

He already knew about Bets-

"Michael's alive!" Jakey yelled excitedly, before being shushed by a nurse, grabbing Jim's arm as the four of them hurried into the wing together, Sebastian following after them as the medic was dragged with the crowd. Bizarre hope spiked in his chest, just a flutter of an emotion - and then they were in front of their friends, the three side by side in their beds.

Greg.

Ali.

Betsy.

Greg was awake and sitting up, grinning at them and holding out his arms, though Sebastian put a firm hand on Max' shoulder before he went barreling over to hug him, obviously conscious that he'd hurt him. Taking note, Max headed over a little more carefully, Oscar sitting on the end of Betsy's bed, and Jakey squeezing Ali's hand - still asleep, his face bandaged. Jim expected they had him on the highest dosage of painklller allowed. Sure enough, Betsy - Michael - blinked himself awake after a moment, still looking weak and pale as a smile slowly spread over his face, and he waved a lazy hand at them all.

"Fellas. Where's.."

"James and Butter Balls with you?" Greg asked, craning his neck at the door, and that was it. Jim's relief shrivelled in his chest, his mouth going dry, and then he was turning, staggering for the door, hearing Sebastian hastily apologise for him, and then hurry after him.

His stomach lurched, and he managed to make it out into Bastion before he threw up into the dust, dropping down onto his knees and emptying the contents of his stomach into the dust, his body shaking. Warm hands rubbed his back and helped him to his feet, and then Sebastian was hugging him again, avoiding the anxious eyes of the medics around them. 

"..They're alive." Jim croaked, and The Captain kissed his hair. "They're.. Betsy.. Michael's alive.."

"I know. I know.. Silver lining."

Jim's face crumpled, feeling horrifically guilty even as he said what he did, the words muffled and pitiful into Sebastian's shirt.

"How..? H.. how? How did they survive, and-"

"Jim. Don't say it." The words were soft, pleading, and Sebastian bent down, his hands finding Jim's shoulders. "..It doesn't work like that. You know it doesn't, love."

"It's not fair."

His stomach threatened to claw itself out again, and Jim turned away, leaning into the corner and trying to calm his pounding heart, that gaping emptiness attacking him again, reminding him of carrying Dougie across the dust, feeling that warm blood seep into his t shirt, watching those hazel eyes slip closed..

"I know, Jim.. I know, it's not."

-

Twenty minutes later, and Jim finally managed to go back into the wing, Ali now awake too, and give them all a tentative hug, Sebastian having received the order that their plane was ready and loaded. Ali thanked him tearfully for saving him, and the words put a lump in Jim's throat, so similar to what Dougie had said. Betsy said something along the same lines, holding Jim's arms and calling him a hero, his voice firm even in his weakness, telling him that he owed him his life, Jim cringing away before he could say any more, trying his best to leave again. Sebastian caught him before he reached the door, wheeling him back to Greg, who frowned at him, pity in his eyes. 

He patted the bed beside him, and Jim sat down, Sebastian guiding away Jakey, Max and Oscar to give them a moment, the boys already having said their goodbyes to their comrades. Jim kept his eyes on his knees, Greg's hand wired with a drip as he took Jim's hand, his words soft.

"I can see it in you. You're not doing well, are you Jim?"

Jim pursed his lips for a moment, halfway to a shrug before his mouth turned tight down into a trembling frown, and then Greg was sitting up, pulling him into a hug, though he winced at the pain as he did so. 

"Listen okay? You're going to be just fine." He rubbed Jim's back. "Absolutely fine. I'm here, okay?"

It didn't escape Jim's notice that he was repeating those very same words that he and Dougie had told to Greg, that night in the midst of his panic attack. 

"..Dougie's.. dead.. Greg..-"

"I gathered." Greg said quietly, and closed his eyes, shaking his head. He gave Jim a squeeze. "I'm so sorry. I know you two were close."

"..How..? How.. do you even go on, after something like that?" Jim asked desperately, voice muffled against his friend's hospital gown. "..How do you?"

"It's hard." Greg said quietly, after a moment. "What am I saying? It's nearly impossible."

"..S..so how..?"

"You just do." 

The words were soft, matter-of-fact. They weren't what Jim wanted to hear, even if they were true. 

"I don't think I can."

"Bollocks." 

Jim lifted his head a little, surprised at the word, and Greg gave a half laugh, Jim returning a weak smile. Greg ruffled his hair.

"You're strong, Jim. I know you are. You helped me so much. You really did. You and.." He fell silent, and Jim sighed, his voice quiet.

"..You can say his name. I don't want.. don't want.. him to fade away."

"You know we'd never let that happen. Neo team forever, you got that?"

Jim gave another weak smile, sitting up, rubbing at his eyes with a half hearted laugh. "..I got it."

"You take care of yourself, you hear me?"

-

The plane journey took ten hours. 

Ten long, bizarre hours, sitting against the wall of an army bunker plane, Jakey on one side and Sebastian on the other, facing Max and Oscar, all in higher spirits now that they'd seen their friends, alive and well. Well, some of them at least. The conversation soon turned to the funeral dates, and Jim grimaced again, turning his face away. Funerals. He couldn't even think about that right now. Full military honours and.. fucking.. trumpet salutes. Trooping the colour, and handing their comrades' uniforms to their mothers. It was.. it didn't seem right. Like they weren't people.

Skeets. James II. Dougie.

Always, they deserved more. Always, always.

The funerals would be on the same day, in a week's time. 

A lot could change in a week.


	23. Whiskey

His mother didn't understand.   
  
He wasn't sure why he'd ever expected her to. She and Albert met Jim at the English army base when their plane had landed, looking rather out of place amongst the working class parents, all clutching banners and signs, whooping and screaming when their loved ones appeared through the gate. They stood off to one side, regarding their peers rather uneasily, his mother flanked by a ream of photographers who turned to ambush Jim the moment he stepped through the gate, weary from the flight and still clutching at Sebastian's hand. 

 

Despite his own parents screaming for him excitedly, Sebastian fell into Captain mode, turning to shield Jim from the press. To his embarrassment, the flashes and sudden noise put his heart into his throat, and he was squinting into the flashes, the questions that were yelled at him quickly becoming yelled at them both.  
 __  
'JAMES, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE HOME?'

'MR. MORIARTY - ARE YOU PLEASED TO BE BACK WITH YOUR MOTHER?'

'DO YOU HAVE A COMMENT ABOUT THE DEATHS OF YOUR THREE COMRADES?'

'ARE YOU IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH CAPTAIN MORAN, JAMES?'  


  
_'MR MORIARTY -ARE YOU GAY?'_

Sebastian scowled at the paparazzi, guiding Jim straight past the lot of them and through to the staff room of the base, sitting him down on a chair and bending down, his hands light on Jim's cheeks. 

"..You okay?"

"..Fine." Jim shook his head, tired. "I wasn't expecting it, is all."

Sebastian gave a wry smile, glancing back at the door disgruntledly. "We should have guessed, though. Your mother's high profile, and our team was torn apart."

Jim winced at that, and Sebastian shook his head, apologetic. 

"..Sorry.."

"No, you're right."

The paparazzi had crowded the door, but soon someone pushed inside, a blonde woman, soon followed by an angry looking blonde teenager, and a balding old man, who had stuffed himself into an old army uniform.

  
"GET AWAY WITH YOU, VULTURES!" He bellowed, and Sebastian laughed a little embarrassedly, standing and rubbing the back of his head in his chagrin.

"..Dad."

The woman threw herself at Sebastian, hugging him with a bone-crushing embrace, her eyes squeezed shut and her words tearful. 

"Oh.. Sebastian.. when we heard the news.."

"Three.." His father lamented quietly, and Jim looked away, hugging his own chest. 

"We thought they might have gotten you.. Oh.. God.."

"Hey, buddy." Sebastian pulled away from his mother, shaking his brother's hand with a clap, the boy smiling and shrugging, seemingly trying to seem aloof. He looked a lot like Sebastian, seemingly even trying to copy his hairstyle.

"Hi Seb."

"Big sixteen now. Man of the family.."

"Nah, cause you're still alive."

 

"What a shame, eh?"

They grinned and hugged, and Jim couldn't help a small smile, the door opening next and Albert peering in over his glasses, Jim sighing embarrassedly.

"Hi Albert."

"James!"

"Don't call me that."  The words were out of Jim's mouth before he could stop them, a terrible pang running through him at the name. James wasn't his name. It didn't belong to him any more. Not after weeks of being Jim, of knowing someone else as James, someone who could no longer be around. Albert didn't seem to notice, barreling past Sebastian's family to pull Jim up into a firm hug, always a little bit stiff and awkward, his mother walking in after him and smiling warmly at Sebastian's family.

"And you must be Captain Moran." She said, in her best politician's voice, holding out a hand. Sebastian glanced at Jim, who was extricating himself from Albert, before smiling and shaking it.

"I must be. You're Jim's mum."

"Margaret McIntyre." She smiled back, neither accepting nor denying this fact. 

"Oh - we should leave you be!" Sebastian's mother worried, trying to herd her family out, but Jim's mother shook her head, that smile still there.

"No bother."  She stepped closer to Jim, putting a single arm around his back and patting him on the shoulder, Jim smiling a little embarrassedly on the floor as she spoke politely, before stepping back just as  "It's very nice to have you back, James."

  
"Jim."

"I'm sorry?"

"I like 'Jim' now."

"Since when?" His mother asked, tilting her head and smiling bemusedly, as if never having heard something so bizarre.

"A nickname." Sebastian interjected, hand sliding down to hold Jim's own, giving it a squeeze. "We all pretty much had them. There's a guy out there called Ballb-"

"How funny."  The words were cold, and Jim's mother smiled a flat smile, before turning away, and making for the door. "Well, we should be getting along. Get you settled back in at home, James."

"Jim."

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes as she faced away. "..Of course."

Sebastian had stiffened beside him, and Jim glanced up at his Captain, his family also looking at his mother as Albert scurried after her to the door. 

"Actually," He remarked after a moment, "Jim's going to be staying with us for a while."

Margaret turned at that, and blinked in surprise. Albert frowned at her. "Is he?" He asked, "I've already cleared my things out of the spare room."

"You mean my bedroom?" Jim asked, a touch indignantly, and Albert nodded, seemingly not seeing the problem there. Sebastian huffed a laugh, looking at Jim's mother in disbelief. She bristled, propping a hand on her hip.

"Why would you have us come all this way to meet you if you aren't even coming back with us?" She asked snippily, and Sebastian squeezed Jim's hand a little tighter, his tone low and a little pissed off.

"Perhaps he wanted to see his mother?"

"The paparazzi are going to have a field day if I leave here without him. It's supposed to be a reunion." She remarked coldly back, and clicked her fingers for Jim.

"Come on. Let's go. We'll talk about this in the car."

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm not a dog. You can't just click and I'll jump."

Margaret took a step closer, pursing her lips flat, glancing at Sebastian's parents and brother, who were watching uneasily.

"I don't have time for this nonsense, James. It's alright for you, swanning off into the sun while I'm left here, talking to the press about your-"  
 __  
"Swanning off into the sun?"  Sebastian raised his voice, indignity clear in his tone, disbelieving anger on his face. "Swanning off into the fucking - are you real?!"

"Seb.." Sebastian's mother tried to reason, feebly, but he shook his head. 

"People have fucking died. Our friends. Our best friends - while we're out there trying to make the world a better place!"

"Yes, it's very noble of you." Margaret replied sarcastically, still waving a hand for Jim, who stayed put. "Come on. We'll get some photographs done. Us together."

"I don't want to go back with you." Jim said at last, finding his voice, even if it was flat, quiet to his own ears. "I want to stay with Sebastian. If that's okay."

He looked a little anxiously to Sebastian's mother, and the Captain squeezed his hand, tone a little amused. "..I don't live with my parents. So yeah. You're welcome for.. as long as you want."

He kissed the top of Jim's head, and Margaret made a sound of disgust in her throat, Sebastian's mother rounding on her this time.

"Excuse me? What was that?"

"I didn't say a word. Come on, Albert. If he wants to stay, let him. He'll soon realise his mistake."

Albert lead the way from the staff room, though Jim's mother took a step closer to Jim, Sebastian tugging him backwards a touch protectively. She held his gaze, eyes cold, as they always were behind her smiles.  She wasn't smiling this time. 

"Your father would be ashamed, James. You're shaming us."

Jim held her gaze, and grinned, though the smile felt unnatural on his face, scarily malicious. "..Good."

His mother flounced away after Albert, the roar of the paparazzi following her out of the building, and Jim leaning into Sebastian's arms, his father immediately beginning to bluster about the brash Margaret McIntyre. Sebastian only had a mutter.

 

"..No wonder you didn't fucking tell anyone about her."

 

-

 

"DO YOU HATE YOUR MOTHER, JAMES?"

"MR. MORIARTY, WHY ARE YOU LEAVING SEPARATELY TO MRS. MCINTYRE?"

"JAMES, IS YOUR MOTHER UNCOMFORTABLE WITH YOUR SAME SEX RELATIONSHIP?"

Sebastian tried to shield him again as they ducked through the paparazzi crowds, only managing half goodbyes to Max, Jakey and Oscar, their friends already enveloped within the arms of their families. Jim wondered for a moment what it should look like in here. Six more families. Six men left back in Afghanistan, and three of them to return in coffins. Dougie. James II. Skeets..

"Jim! Sebastian!"

The voice was excited, and an arm was thrown around their necks, Jim and Sebastian stumbling for a moment beside his parents' car, Sebastian's mother, father and brother already sitting inside, their bags crammed in the boot. Jim pulled back a little, blinking in surprise at Devo, one arm in a sling, a wide grin on his face.

"I've missed you two." He told them, and then to Jim, shook his head. "I owe you my fucking life, man.."

"No you don't." Jim said quietly, but Devo was already craning his neck for the centre. "Is Skeets in there? I brought him some of those lime starburst, he was fuckin' nagging me for them the whole time I was out there." He laughed. "He's gonna blow a gasket when he sees 'em."

Jim closed his eyes, that ache settling in his chest again. Sebastian's hand squeezed his own, and he took over, his voice gentle but resigned.

"..Devo. We're back home early because of fatalities. We've been all over the news, apparently."

Devo just blinked back at them, shrugging, half distracted as he watched the centre, waving madly as Max appeared with his family. "I been in hospital."

"Skeets is gone." Sebastian finished with a finality that rang in the air, Jim unable to look at Devo's face, unable to do anything but climb into the car and put his face in his hands. Sebastian's brother patted him awkwardly on the back, his mother passing back tissues and watching him concernedly. The scene outside was muffled, muted as Devo half collapsed in the Captain's arms, Sebastian holding him upright as he began to yell, to demand angrily that it wasn't true, to try and run for the centre, to try and ascertain that it wasn't true. Next came the tears - loud, uncouth wails that had people looking over from across the car park, Sebastian just holding their friend, his face stoic.

 

Jim felt like he was going through it all over again. The anger. The pain. The loss. 

 

The family sat, silent in the car, morose and uneasy as they waited. Jim shook, holding himself as if he might fall apart, feeling blood cascade over his fingertips again, the soot in his eyes, the dusty scratch in his throat.. Dougie's voice in his ear.

_I was supposed to save you._

_You did save me._

 

-

 

Sebastian's flat was homey and small, the floors heated and the furniture all old and comfortable. It wasn't the grand place Jim had envisaged owning for himself one day, but it seemed to suit the Captain perfectly. His family dropped them off there, and Jim had padded inside with the bags while Sebastian said his goodbyes, promising that they'd be over for dinner at least three times in the next week. 

 

And they were.

 

The days that they didn't go, Sebastian's mother dropped around casseroles and lasagnas, greeted at the door by her son's exasperated sighs, though he always took them gratefully, he and Jim eating on the sofa, with a blanket in front of the television. It was.. certainly different to Afghanistan. To say they were holing up in there, hiding themselves away from the world would be.. accurate. Reminders seemed to batter Jim at every turn, and the week passed in a slow melting of his days together, sleepless nights held together by days on the sofa, or the occasional dinner at Sebastian's parents house. Sebastian was his grounding force, keeping him steady, keeping him.. alive, really, he supposed he had to admit to himself. 

 

They talked about the others a lot. One day, Jakey sent them a picture of himself with his baby daughter, and it was the first proper smile Jim had given in days, though it soon faded, his mind forcing him to think about the others. Their families. Their futures that no longer existed. 

Memories attacked Jim on a daily basis. A trip to a market turned into a cab home when the warehouse fire alarm went off, forcing him to throw himself on the ground, dropping his purchases everywhere, Sebastian crouching over him and yelling at anyone that came close. He'd lifted him up, and taken him outside to find a cab, the shopping abandoned. The very next day, his face had been on the front page of The Sun, with a quote from his mother talking about her 'deep distress' at his 'mental breakdown'.

Sebastian had brought the paper to him in bed the next morning with tea and toast, and once past the initial mortification, they'd laughed about it, Jim just damn relieved that he was no longer living with her. The attacks, he could deal with. He had Sebastian. 

 

They considered what they might do. In the future, when the furor had died away. Sebastian had never known anything but the army. Jim didn't like to think about him going back, the idea inevitable but painful.. Five tours. It seemed too lucky for him to survive a sixth. And it would.. be Jim's luck for him to die. To leave him alone, with no one, to drag Sebastian into that same abyss that he'd lost Dougie to. He wouldn't cope. He was barely coping now.

At long last, the day of the funerals came, bringing with it an icy dawn, breaths gusting in the air before them as they walked, wearing suits, from the tube station to the church. The grass was crusted with ice, and Jim shivered, Sebastian's arm around his middle, more susceptible to the cold after the weeks in the unbearable heat. The ice hung on the trees, frosted the heads of gravestones and sparkled on the path as they walked to stand in the church courtyard, and Jim couldn't help but think how pretty it all was.. A winter that Dougie would never see again. James, and Skeets too.

 

The coffins, all three of them covered with the union jack flag, were brought into the church, Sebastian holding James' with Max and James' family members, Skeets' two brothers and his father holding his, and Jim insisting that he help with Dougie's. The coffin was mahogany, and his eyes felt hot just looking at it, a lump in his throat as he bent down, Dougie's father, Jakey and Oscar all bending with him as they lifted it onto their shoulders. The pallbearers walked in a procession, and Oscar's shoulders shook a little in front of him, already falling apart before they'd even reached the pulpit.

It was the longest walk of his life, Jim unable to get rid of the image of his friend, lying still, asleep in the wooden box. When he finally set him down, he stood unmoving, unable to leave. Unable to step away and take his seat until Jakey and Oscar took his hands and guided him away. The church was magnificent, towering stained glass windows set in old, arched stone, but Jim stared numbly at the coffins, unable to believe that his friends lay within, that they were lost to the world and its beauty, lost to all and any of them. 

The minister stood, and they sang a hymn. He spoke about James II, and then his father was invited to say a few words, managing to brave his way through an emotional speech, hands shaking around a piece of paper as he did so. Jakey was crying next to him, and Jim squeezed his hand, feeling like he might be sick again. It was that constant ache in his chest, an emptiness in his stomach.. a numbness in his mind that he wasn't sure he'd ever fill again. Sebastian caught his eye, and smiled reassuringly. Skeets was next, his real name Scadwyll - which Jim had never known, looking surprisedly at Oscar, who nodded with a slight smile. It was Welsh, he realised when his grandfather stood up to speak for him, his words short but sweet, welsh accent strong in his heartbroken voice. Skeets himself hadn't had the accent. 

After another hymn, it was Dougie's turn. 

 

Jim turned in his seat, watching a lady get to her feet - who even from where he was sat, had those hazel eyes, clutching a notepad as she began to make her way towards the pulpit. She crumpled halfway, collapsing into a flood of tears, Jim immediately up and heading over, though she was quickly enveloped by family members, and he sat back down, his throat thick. The minister stood back at the pulpit, speaking quietly into the microphone.

"If anyone else has a few words for Douglas?"

Silence filled the church, Dougie's mother's crying quiet and muffled by his father's coat, the minister looking at them all hopefully, seemingly about to move on. Oscar glanced across at Max, who shrugged, glancing at Sebastian. Closing his eyes for a second, Jim took a breath, and then stood up. 

"..I can.. say something."

"Go ahead, young man." The minister said kindly, stepping down from the pulpit and holding out a hand, Jim's eyes on his best friend's coffin as he approached the pulpit, heart aching in his chest. He found Sebastian's gaze in the crowd nodding at him reassuringly, all eyes on him, and then swallowed, hearing his breaths echo in the tiny microphone of the podium.

Only for Dougie.

 

-

 


	24. X Ray

"Hi.. everyone.."  
  


Jim's words echoed around the church, and he swallowed, shifting a little from one foot to the other. Nervous, he glanced over at the three coffins laying in a row, his chest aching as his gaze settled on Dougie's. 

"..Sorry it.. it doesn't seem real.." He said quietly, receiving a few sympathetic murmurs, a few nods. He cleared his throat, dragged his gaze away from those three union jack flags. He began to speak, his words rather numb, his hands curled nervously around that pulpit.

"..When I first arrived at the base, I was terrified. Everything was new, it was much too hot, the bags were heavy and I had a Captain who seemed to enjoy embarrassing me at every opportunity."  A quiet titter went through the audience, and he caught Sebastian's half smile.   "..The moment I arrived, I already knew I wanted to go home. The other medics knew so much more, and I was delivered to a group of crazy, loud and obnoxious men.." He paused, finding Jakey, Oscar and Max on the front row, shadows of smiles on their faces.

"..Who would eventually become my family."

He swallowed, and went on, glancing back at the coffins again. 

"..Dougie was the first one out of the lot of them to speak to me. To introduce me, to try and make me feel at home. He picked me up from the dust, he pushed me into the Neo mobile, and he made me get on with it. That was just how he was. 'We can do this', 'I've got you', 'Don't give up'. He was never afraid of anything, never one to back down, or stop. I remember one day, I did something particularly dangerous and terrifying, something that my Captain would kill me if I told you about. I was scared. I was alone, and I was determined, but hell, was I scared..  
I turned around, and Dougie was there."  He gave a quiet laugh. "He was right there, he'd followed me all the way, looking out for me, trying to make sure that I was okay. And to save you the detail.. I'm pretty sure that he saved my life that day."

_I'm supposed to save you._

  
_You did save me._

He winced at that terrible memory, closed his eyes for a long moment, silence falling throughout the church. His mouth was dry, able to taste the blood and dust, and Sebastian stood slowly, ready to come and fetch him if need be. Jim closed his eyes, and waved him away. He took a breath.

 

"Right up until the moment he.. died.. Dougie was looking out for everyone else. Putting himself at risk without a care in the world for his friends. For the people he.. loved. He was funny. Impossibly so.. He.. he made me laugh on a daily basis, even if we were just insulting each other, and he was smart - smarter than anyone gave him credit for. He knew when to call bullshit, and my God, he was loving. So.. so.. I don't.. think I've ever met anyone as concerned for his friends, willing to drop everything, to sacrifice his life and his career for them. For me. For all of us."

Jim took another long breath, his palms sweating, that loss settling in his chest again.

"I don't doubt that we would have been friends for a very long time. Best friends. Until the very end of our lives. He was a brother to me. Closer than that. He was a light in the dark, when things got difficult. Losing Dougie will stay with me forever, as will his memory in my heart. He was stolen from us in the worst, the most unfair way, and even.. even with his last breath, he was comforting me."  He gave a quietly exasperated laugh. "..Can you imagine that? Comforting.. me.."

He looked over at the coffin again. 

"..Dougie. You told me.. you told me that I saved you, once. But you were wrong. For once in your life, you were wrong. From the moment I arrived at the base, terrified and alone.. you saved me. That night, alone in the desert. You saved me. And I'll.. I'll owe you for that, forever."

He stepped down from the pulpit, bottom lip trembling, his eyes wet again as he found the coffin, and rested his hands on the flag. 

"Neo team forever." He whispered, mirroring Greg's words to him. His tears dripped down pitifully onto the flag, and then hands were on his shoulders, firm and gentle at the same time, guiding him back to his seat. Oscar. Jakey. Max. Sebastian, all around him, supporting him, their eyes wet with his. 

"Forever." Max agreed for them with a nod, his words a trembling murmur. 

-

 

All three boys had asked to be cremated rather than buried, and so the church service was all they had. Jim stood with his comrades, hands tight on his own, arms around his shoulders as they watched the minister bless the coffins, and then one by one, they disappeared into the crematorium hatch. Each coffin was given a different song as it departed, with a few minutes gap between each - the boys' favourites. Skeets had 'Sweet Child O Mine'. James II, a Mumford and Sons song. 

 

Dougie had Yellow, by Coldplay, and Jim just couldn't damned hold it together anymore. He imagined he looked a mess, sobs so hard that they made him shake, pursing his lips firmly to try not to make a noise, able to imagine his friend liking this song. In fact, he thought he'd heard him singing it, humming it sometimes. He watched the coffin disappear through the hatch with that flag, resisting the urge to run after it, to throw himself in there after him, to scream and claw at the wood and demand that it wasn't true.

"..Goodbye, Dougie." He whispered instead, his voice broken. 

The hatch closed, hands squeezed his shoulders, and then it was done.

For the final time, his best friend was gone.

 

-

 

The Neo Team boys were the last to file out of the church, even after the boys' families had gone on to their respective homes, to mourn in peace. Sebastian lead them out, still wearing his Captain uniform, the sight of it only reminding Jim of everything else, glad that he hadn't been forced to wear his own. To see the boys in them would have been too much, would have brought back too many overwhelming memories.. He supposed that meant he couldn't go back to being in the army. 

"Hi boys."

The words were thick, slightly slurred, and they turned, cold outside the church, Devo standing there with Ali. Ali's cheek was bandaged thickly, his speech not quite fixed yet, and he smiled at them lopsidedly, the boys all laughing, pleased in their surprise, leaning in to hug him. 

"Hey mate, when did you get back?"

"Only a couple hours ago.. Sorry I missed it. Devo came to get me."

Devo ruffled his hair with his good arm. "Don't worry. They wouldn't care. You're here now."

"Jim did a.. good speech." Oscar said quietly, and Jim looked down at his feet, Ali stepping closer and squeezing his arm.

"..You okay?"

  
Jim couldn't answer that, and Sebastian slid an arm around his shoulders. "He will be."

 

They headed to the pub together, Ali informing them that Greg and Betsy were still in Afghanistan, not yet well enough to fly, though Greg was becoming restless, tired of being stuck in a bed. They sat down with their beers, raising a toast to James II, Dougie and Skeets, all drinking wordlessly for a few moments, lost in morose reflection. Sebastian held Jim's hand under the table, speaking quietly after a moment.

"..What's next for you all, then?"

 

The conversation kept them occupied, kept them distracted for the best part of an hour, after which Sebastian and Jim excused themselves to go home, promising that they'd meet up all the time. Ali needed to recover, and then wanted to be a teacher. Devo wanted to go back to war, as did Oscar. Jakey wanted to be a stay at home dad for his baby daughter, and Max had been offered a job by his father-in-law, in a hardware store. Sebastian had said that he didn't know, and Jim had mumbled something about a hospital, though he couldn't for the life of him even begin to consider going on in medicine. It was no longer what he wanted, no longer what he was supposed to do. 

 

He just didn't know what he 'was' supposed to do.

 

After hugging, and promises, and exchanging mobile numbers and addresses, they left at last, Sebastian holding Jim's hand as they collected a free newspaper and then caught the tube home, Jim feeling a little numb, exhausted from the day.

 

He was half asleep on the Captain's shoulder when he heard Sebastian's quiet curse, opening his eyes blearily to look down at the page and see his mother's face staring back at him, those cold eyes and smug smile that so many had mistaken for motherly kindness. 

"What?" He asked thickly, sitting up a little, and Sebastian pursed his lips flat, anger written in his expression. He dropped his gaze down to the headline.

**TROOPS TO STAY FOR NO PAY**   
_MCINTYRE IN TALKS WITH SECRETARY OF STATE FOR DEFENCE TO LENGTHEN ARMY POSTING TIMES_   


 

 

"What?" Jim repeated, in outrage this time, sitting up properly to grab that page, gritting his teeth as he read. 

_'Tipped as the next Tory leader, McIntyre has speculated on 'pandering' to the troops, claiming that our armed forces are given too much lenience with leave time, and that their posting times (six month to one year periods) are not long enough. Quoted today, about to liaise with the S.O.S.O.D, Martin Reighy, she commented; 'Of course, I empathise with our fine soldiers. My son has recently returned from Afghanistan, and he's suffered severely with his mental health. Obviously we're not doing something right there, and I think they need a greater submersion in the experience. Leave time, and coming home, and receiving letters from home is simply distracting from the job at hand. How can they possibly concentrate if they always have one foot back in England?' Martin Reighy was not available for comment at this time.'_   


 

"Their letters? Their leave? Extending their posting times?! Is she fucking crazy?" Jim demanded, a few people on the tube glancing his way. Sebastian replied stiffly, teeth gritted, running a hand over his eyes.

"..Do you think this is a personal thing?"

"Do you mean - 'do I think it's because of me?'"

"..Yeah."

"Of course it fucking is! Oh my god, she doesn't understand. She literally does not bloody.. fucking.. Oh.. she makes me so.."  He crumpled the paper in his fists, Sebastian trying to peel his fingers open, his voice gentle.

"..Don't worry about it too much. Surely she doesn't have that much influence?"

Jim blinked at his Captain, his words flat and resigned. "..Martin Reighy used to come to our house for dinner at least once a month. He drank cognac and pissed in the garden."

"..Fuck."

"Yeah. Best friends."

He tossed the paper onto the floor, and pressed his fingers into his eyes, gritting his teeth. A few long minutes later, seething in his rage, he was pulled off the tube by Sebastian, his Captain walking him back to the flat. Fucking hell, he hated that woman. She really didn't understand at all. 

Taking the letters from the men, their only contact with home. Their leave time for God's sake, the only taste of normality in months and months of being shot at and blown up and laying in the darkness of another world. And extending that time - increasing the likeliness of post traumatic stress, and death. Exhaustion and.. mental illness. God, she really had no fucking clue. 

 

Well mother, he thought sarcastically, blind ignorance and influence, you're really a damned politician now. Father would be proud.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, still wearing his funeral suit, still feeling that bitter grief tighten in his chest. He owed it to his friends to stop this, to at least.. try. 

He didn't have to be so helpless anymore. 

"..Are you okay, love?" Sebastian asked, sitting down beside him and pressing a hot coffee into his hands. Jim just nodded, eyes fixed on the television screen, his mother smiling, waving at the crowd as she headed into the house of commons. He muted the sound, just watching her, hatred welling in his chest.

"..Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine."

 

- 


	25. Yankee

They were in bed early, the both of them exhausted by the long day, emotionally drained as well as anything else. Sebastian's mother had dropped off a quiche, and they'd eaten in front of the television, stoically avoiding the news. When they finally headed into the bedroom, Jim pulled the Captain's hands away from his shirt buttons, unbuttoning them himself, Sebastian raising his eyebrows slowly but dropping his hands, letting him. Jim kissed him slowly, enjoying the tentative rough-skinned hands that came to rest at his hips, the two of them having not been.. 'intimate' since before their friends had died.  
  


He took things slowly, Sebastian letting him lead - which was a little bizarre, having always been at the Captain's mercy. He kissed at Sebastian's skin,undressing him with nervous fingers, the Captain pulling them back gently onto his bed. 

"I love you." He murmured, kissing lightly at Jim's jaw as Jim undressed him, before his hands found hot skin, giving him a few strokes. Sebastian's breath hitched. "..Y - you did really well, today. I'm proud of you."

Jim gave a meek smile, coyly passing over the lubricant from the Captain's drawer, moving to sit in his lap as he coated his fingers. They kissed slowly as Sebastian worked him open, becoming more breathless, more needing by the second, beginning to rock in the Captain's lap as he sucked at his bottom lip.

"..You're gorgeous.." Sebastian breathed into his mouth, and Jim gave a quiet whine in reply, shivering a little, a thin sheen of sweat already covering his skin. The Captain's hands came to rest at his lower back, moving him to where he wanted him as she shifted to sit back against the headboard, Jim taking the initiative and sinking himself down onto him, tipping his head back with a low moan. They needed this, after the day they'd had. To not think, to not hurt, to just.. love. To have something purely physical. 

 

Jim's arms wound themselves around Sebastian's neck, their mouths close as they rocked together, sweet bliss that Jim desperately needed.

"..Fuck.." Sebastian swore lowly, eyes fluttering closed, breathless against Jim's lips. He rolled his hips, Jim moving with him, feeling that burning ache, that need begin to curl hot and visceral in his stomach. 

"..Sebastian.." He moaned quietly, before biting down on his lips instead, bed beginning to creak as the Captain quickened his pace, rocking his hips in a harder sequence of ruts, big hands resting on Jim's lower back as he moved. It was dizzying, gasps torn from Jim's throat every so often, the squeak of the bed joining their noises in the air, that heat in his abdomen becoming near unbearable as the Captain descended into grunted curses, and gasped utterances of Jim's name.

 

Jim came first with a half cry, fingernails scratching paths into Sebastian's back, and feeling him kiss hard at his neck, muffling a groan when he spilled over inside him, holding him tightly as he rocked. Jim stayed there for a few long moments, heart slamming into his ribs and his chest heaving, damp skinned as Sebastian stroked his sides, and kissed him lazily on the mouth. 

"..Not.. bad, medic.."

"Not.. so bad yourself.."

 

He climbed off at last,and curled up by the Captain's side, nestling against him and pulling those warm arms around himself.He closed his eyes, still trying to calm his breathing, Sebastian kissing his hair.

 

It was peaceful, mindless. Jim felt himself drifting off to sleep, warm and safe, for once able to escape the horrors of the past few weeks. 

"..Sebastian.."

"..Mm?"

"..I love you too."

 

-

 

Jim waited, his eyes closed, until he heard Sebastian's breathing even out, soft snores leaving him as he held Jim close. He turned in his arms, and pressed a kiss to the sleeping Captain's forehead, before slipping away, finding his clothes and getting dressed. He still only had the clothes he'd taken to Afghanistan with him, washed and dried of course, and Sebastian had folded them, put them alongside his own in his drawers. There had been no mention of Jim going home, or moving out, and Jim was.. thankful, to say the least. He wasn't sure he could cope, alone.

 

He dressed in his uniform, the material feeling like home against his skin. It had been washed too, the jacket having been soaked in blood, the other garments in soot, a reminder of that day. Even now, he could see the stains, but he didn't care. He needed to do this.

 

He slipped out of the flat with another kiss to Sebastian's cheek, pulling a bag of the Captain's onto his shoulders. And then he climbed into a cab, and gave the driver his mother's address.

 

-

 

It was bizarre, seeing his house and not being allowed to go inside. Jim climbed out of the car with his bag, and paid the cab driver, the man nodding and driving off. The lights were on, a television flickering behind the curtains, Jim wondering why his mother and Albert were up so late - until he realised that it was only eleven. He and Sebastian had gone to bed early, after all.

 

Taking a breath, he strode over the gravel, and rang the doorbell, stepping back and folding his arms over his chest. After rather a lot of confused, and angry talking inside, Albert opened the door, frowning at Jim. 

"James?"

"..Jim."

"What time do you call this?" He blustered, and Jim spoke calmly. 

"I need to speak to my mother."

"Who is it?" The call came, irritated from inside, and then a moment later, his mother forced her way past Albert, before arching an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I see."

"I need to speak to you."

"Yes." She mused, and opened the door. Her flippant tone made Jim angry. "I thought you might."  

He stepped past her, storming through to the living room and then turning around to face her, she and Albert in long, quilted dressing gowns, and his mother in reading glasses. Jim fixed her with a look, determined to fix this, but Albert interrupted him.

"Are we offering him tea, or is it too late?"

"I'm fine." Jim said curtly, and his mother waved a hand at Albert, who was staring at Jim disapprovingly. 

"He's probably just come to get his things." Albert said conspiratorially, as if Jim couldn't hear him. His mother glanced over her shoulder at her husband.

"Either that," She drawled, "Or the boyfriend dumped him."

"It's none of that."  Jim's words were flat, and he curled his fingers into fists. It was warm in here, extremely warm, the heating on full blast as well as the gas fire, a contrast from the freezing cold winter outside. The TV flickered behind him in the dark living room, and his mother folded her arms across her chest, looking infuriatingly amused. "And I'm not having a mental breakdown by the way, so would you mind not saying that to the whole damned press?"

"Could have fooled me.." She said back, pursing her lips at him. "The clip was uploaded on YouTube."

"Shopping all over the floor." Albert informed him, shaking his head. "That man laying all over you like your lover."

"Like my-?" Jim scoffed, laughing. "Albert, when were you fucking born?"

"Watch your tone." His mother shot back, and Jim rolled his eyes. He strengthened his stance, letting that sarcastic smile fade from his lips. Albert shifted unhappily.

"I'm here because I saw the story in the Standard. Please for the love of God, tell me that they twisted it beyond relief, and that you actually want to help men like me?"

His tone was a warning, a slight plea behind the words, wanting her to reveal herself as a nice woman, as the good mother he'd always wanted. 

"Men like you?" She replied curtly, arching an eyebrow. "Is that gay men, mentally deranged men, or murderers? Which exactly would you prefer?"

Jim blinked, slight shock in his features, not realising how much the words had hurt him until he felt that ache in his chest, and that thickness in his throat. Gay man. He didn't mind that. It was true, after all. Mentally deranged.. a little more smarting. But if the papers were to be believed, then.. fair enough. He knew the truth.

But.. murderer?

The worst part was, he didn't know who she was talking about. 

"..Excuse me?" He managed, the words flat and disbelieving, and she nodded at him, eyebrows raised. 

"What? I read your report, James. This 'Sadaf' fellow. He was unrecognisable when they found him. You didn't just kill him. You slaughtered him."

"..I.." Jim swallowed, anger flaring in his chest, as well as sudden panic, that darkness encroaching, the memory of that fateful day. "..I.. He.. killed my -"

"Yes. Douglas. I heard. And another James, and a Scadwyll. Very sad, I'm sure. Luckily the measures I'm bringing in will help other soldiers from falling into such hardship. Keep their mind in their work, so to speak."

Anger burst out of Jim, and he took a step forwards. "You don't know a thing!"

"I know that you and this 'Dougie' were close. Someone at the funeral recorded that whole touching speech. He saved me. How.. poetic."

"..Don't.. you.." Jim's teeth were gritted, pain lashing at his chest. "..Dare..-"

"Perhaps he might have had a chance if you hadn't been so heavy on his mind."

The words were curt, simple, but they hurt like the blade of a knife. Jim looked away, his mouth open, that comment replaying in his head. 

"..You're making a mistake." He managed eventually, the words strained, both hands pressed to each side of his head, trying to force away the memories and the darkness.  "You.. don't.. These men.." He brought down his hands shakily, turning to his mother, facing those cold eyes with pleading words. 

"Mother. These men live to see their families. To get a letter every week, to have a couple of weeks off every few months. You can't.. you can't take that away from them.."

She rolled her eyes at him, and moved to sit down on the arm of the sofa, Albert following her and standing by her, the ever loyal fucking subject. She still sounded amused.

"And how much good did that do your team, James?"

"..Jim.."

" _James._   Like the one that died, am I right? Is that why you're giving up your birth name?" She laughed once, and the sound was a tinkling menace. "James, Douglas and Scadwyll all died as a result of-"

"Skeets."

"..Pardon?"

Jim gritted his teeth. "His name was Skeets, and you didn't know him. You didn't know any of them and you don't have a fucking right to talk about them, or make decisions based on-"

"Don't you take that tone with your mother!" Albert piped up, and Jim was a half second away from shooting him his middle finger. As it was, his mother just laughed again, and waved a hand, lounging in her robe.

"I have every right, sweetheart. I'm a politician. The tragedy of the N.E.E.A team is what I live for. If I spin this the right way, if I blame those deaths on the poor frameworks currently in place, then I'll make change much more easily."

"The only reason anyone is fucking listening to you is because of me. Because you have a son in the army."

"Oh don't flatter yourself-"

"And because you're best fucking friends with Martin Reighy."

She smiled. "..Yes. And Martin certainly remembers you.. He thought you were an awfully strange child."

"I don't care about any of that." Jim said lowly. "I won't let you-"

"In fact he was very understanding about your father's death."

Jim froze at that, and blinked, eyes swivelling to Albert, who merely shook his head at him with a tight frown, his words stiff.   "Of course I know."

 

"Of course Albert knows." His mother said and rolled her eyes. She smoothed the collar of her dressing gown. "And if you try to oppose me publicly, James.. the world will know, too."

Jim blinked at her, taking a step back. "..Wait.. what?"  He grimaced at her, not understanding, his heart starting to judder in his chest. "I was just a child.. I didn't.. I wasn't even.. I.."  He wrapped his arms uncertainly around his chest. "I'm your son."

"You're also the man that murdered my husband." His mother stood again, taking a step closer. Her words were flat, but amused at Jim's reaction. "So that's my husband.. Sadaf.. Dougie.. James.. Scadwyll.." She advanced on him a little with each name, and Jim shook his head hard, words feeble in his throat.

"I didn't.. - I.. Skeets and.. James.. Dougie .. I didn't-"

"Ah, but you didn't save them, did you?" She countered, almost teasingly, and Jim clamped his hands to his head again, trying desperately not to think about that, about what she was suggesting, what she was saying. 

"..Mum.." He pleaded quietly, and a hand whipped out, slapping him hard across the cheek, and sending him reeling, almost staggering over onto the carpet. 

"You lost the privilege to call me that a long time ago."

Albert stood by, watching them, Jim's cheeks hot as he looked away, dizzy from that slap, chest clawing at itself as his brain desperately tried to work out if he'd killed his friends.. If it had been his fault.. No.. of course it.. Of course he hadn't.. 

"You've made me look a failed mother in the press. And I know I'm a failed mother in private. I've raised a killer. A  _murderer._."

She sneered the words at him, and Jim shook his head hard, trying to stand up straight, to clench his fists. 

"I won't let you.." He said, words angry and shaking, forcing her emotional torture from his mind. He fumbled with the bag, taking it from his shoulders, a hand rooting around inside. "I won't.. I won't let you take away the leave. Or the letters. Or.. or make life worse for them. It's bad enough as it  _fucking_  is.."

His mother laughed, and Jim went on, looking between her and Albert.

"And.. and maybe I haven't been.. been the best son. Or the best.. medic. But I had a family out there!" He was screaming the words now, his mother still laughing at him, as if seeing him so worked up was hysterically funny. Albert smiled with her, taking her hand. "I.. I had a family.. and they mean.. meant.. MEAN.. more to me than you ever did.  _Mother_."

She still laughed, rolling her eyes, words breathless in her mirth. "Are you going to go to the papers, James? Tell them Mummy hurt your feelings?"

"I'll do whatever I fucking have to!" Jim shrieked, hatred in his every pore. "You - y -you won't do this! You won't  _do this to them_."

"You're a mess." She shot back, gaze cold once she'd finally stopped laughing, though her tone was still amused, her face the same sneer that had tormented Jim from behind cold smiles throughout the later part of his childhood. "My little murderer with the public breakdown. Oh, it'll be so _sad."_  She mocked a tearful expression, putting a hand against her forehead. "How terrible that Margaret McIntyre, head of the Tory party, had to have her dear son committed to a mental ward. Oh, the sympathies! I'll get the working class vote. They'll support my policies, and  I'll be the Prime Minister by the next election.."

"You're sick." Jim shot back, his gaze withering, still clutching his bag to his chest, rooting around inside. "You're sick, and I.. You won't..-

"That's rich." She smiled, and then, with mock pity; _"_ Who exactly is going to take you as a reputable source?"

 

And then Jim, utterly beside himself and long past trying to reason with her, merely pulled the gun from his bag, and clicked off the safety. 

"Everyone. Or no one. I don't care."

His mother shrieked, turning to run for the door, Albert hot on her tail, his mother screaming that " _HE'S GONE MAD_ -", which was ironic considering the threat she'd just made to have him committed. She continued screaming blue murder as Albert tore at the door handle, and Jim's hands shook around the gun. He'd tried to reason with her. He'd really, really tried. He swallowed hard, words an exasperated whisper.

"..You wanted me to be a murderer, mother.."

 

He swallowed hard, and then shot them both in the back.

 

 

-

 


	26. Zulu

The bodies hit the floor with two separate thumps, Albert slamming into the door first, and leaving a crimson smear across the light wood. Blood began to spread across the back of his mother's robe as she lay motionless, Jim's mouth dropping open in shock as he dropped the gun with a clatter onto the floor. The television continued to murmur quietly, flickering in the background, and all was the same as a few seconds ago - except of course, very, very different. Jim pressed his hands to his mouth, staggering backwards a step, eyes wide and fixed on those slumped bodies, motionless on the floor.   
  
Though panicking on the surface, internally he felt.. calmer than he expected. His heartbeat had quickened and his palms were clammy, but it was as though he knew he'd done the right thing. As morally dubious as that sounded. His mother would have hurt people with her policies, had no interests that weren't her own. And she was doing it just to get back at him.   
  
"I'm a murderer." He said aloud, the words quiet in the warm air of the house. He took a long breath, closing his eyes. Accepting them. 

 

A murderer.

 

He was a murderer.

And at that, he turned and walked through the house, leaving through the bedroom window, and then beginning to run.

 

-

 

He ran until his legs ached, until his chest burned and he thought he might pass out, and even then, pushed himself to run some more. It was pitch black around him, though still not quite dark enough, not as dark as that night in Afghanistan, heart slamming into his ribs as they were chased back to the base by the Taliban. He missed this, he realised. The outside. The slam of earth beneath his feet, even if it wasn't the dusty cracked desert that he was accustomed to, or the same blistering heat. He missed all of it, if he was honest. Before it had all gone sour. Dougie running beside him every day, Sebastian stealing kisses in the med tent.. Eating breakfast, lunch and dinner with his best friends. It seemed.. it seemed so long ago, now. 

He felt dizzy, his thighs beginning to tremble and his calves leaden, though he continued to run, running as hard and fast as he could, as he'd ever run before. It was painful, and it was what he needed, the wind cold down his collar and his chest threatening to collapse much sooner than his legs.  He was a murderer. He needed to run, needed to feel pain, needed to get far away from what he'd done.

 

He felt a kind of despair in his chest in his acceptance of his dark tendencies, though it was joined by slight relief. Maybe he didn't have to try so hard anymore. If he was a bad person, then so be it. He could be helpless, he could be lost. He was a bad person. He killed people, and he let others down, and he broke the rules. He left his lovers in the dead of night to commit atrocities, and he put himself into stupid situations just to get things done. And maybe that was just who he was. 

A bad person.

  
"You're not."

Covered in sweat, delirious from the aches and at least fifteen miles from where he'd begun, Jim glanced blearily to his right to see Dougie running alongside him, in his khaki trousers and t shirt, as if it wasn't freezing outside. No fatal wound across his neck. As alive as the day they'd first met. As the night they'd kissed.  He regarded Jim with the same cheeky amusement, and then nodded ahead.

"Where are we going then, arse?"

Jim pushed himself a little harder, feeling his muscles tremble and ache, that stitch tearing through his chest with each harsh breath, the stuttered laugh barely making it from his throat. He didn't have the energy to ask himself how his friend was here, how it was possible, or what it meant.

"..B - butter.. balls..-"

"It was one time!" His friend insisted, laughing as he jogged beside him, Jim now staggering over the road, black spots in his vision. A hand found his own, so very warm and soft, and squeezed hard.

"..You can stop now, you know."

"..No.."

  
His protest didn't seem to matter. His knees buckled a moment later, legs disappearing from under him, and he came down hard on the side of the road, feeling the tarmac scrape his arms and cheek. He must have blacked out, because when he finally opened his eyes again, his heart was throbbing, drizzle beginning to come down lightly and soak him wet. His body ached terribly, and he groaned quietly, just laying there, half in a ditch at the side of the road. His legs felt leaden and heavy, and he squeezed his eyes shut when the memory of his mother and Albert came back to him, slumped dead on the kitchen floor. 

"Well I don't know, but I kinda think she deserved it." 

Dougie's voice was amused, and when Jim managed to turn his aching head to one side, he saw his best friend sitting there, leaning back casually on the grassy bank at the side of the road, looking down at Jim with a half smile.  "How you doing down there?"

"I.."  Jim's voice came out in a half rasp, and he tried to blink the rainwater from his eyes, eyelashes clinging together wetly. His bottom lip shook, just taking in as much of his friend as he could. "..I'm.. sorry.."

Dougie shrugged, and slid down the bank a little, coming to sit beside Jim. He lifted him out of the ditch, so warm and impossibly dry in the rain, and held him against his uniform, Jim still a little delirious, blearily blinking hot tears from his eyes. 

"Don't be. I know you tried your best, Jimbo."

"Y.. you.. weren't... you..-"

_You weren't supposed to die._   


 

"Sorry for all the inconvenience." Dougie quipped back, and Jim punched him feebly in the ribs, those hot tears beginning slick tracks down his cheeks. Soft, dry hands wiped them away.  "..That was a real nice speech at my funeral." He laughed quietly, and rolled those hazel eyes. "So mushy, though. I'm not as good as all that."

"..Y..yes.. y..ou..-"

"I know you blame yourself." Dougie said, those warm fingers stroking through Jim's hair. "..But it wasn't your fault. Not really."

"..S..adaf..-"

"Would have blown us all to bits anyway. You saved Oscar and Sebastian. Think about that, for a change."

_Why are you such a know-it-all?_   


  
"I'm just special like that."

_Yeah, definitely 'special'._

"Oi, shut up. Don't make me haunt you, Jimbo. I will, you know."

  
_Are you really here?  
_  
"..I don't know. Am I?"

_It feels like it._

"..Are you really talking out loud?"

"..I.."

_I don't know. Am I dying?_   


 

"Don't be stupid. You're the medic, aren't you?"

_Get fucked._

The reply to that was a laugh, Dougie's laugh, so bright and loud in the silent night. Jim smiled, his eyes closed, but it became tight after a moment, trembling as he tried not to cry.

  
_I miss you, Dougie._

"Yeah.. I know. But you're okay. You'll be okay one day."

_I'm a murderer._

"Maybe. If you wanna put a label on it." He could hear the amusement in his friend's tone, and rolled his eyes. 

_Why don't you care?_

"We've all killed people. It's literally what they hired us to do. Kill the bad people."

_My mother wasn't a bad person._

"..Wasn't she, though?" 

 

Jim blinked at that, but didn't say anything else, turning to find those hazel eyes, fixing on his own. Dougie leaned in and kissed him on the forehead, and Jim closed his eyes. 

_You stole my t shirt._

"Helped me sleep better. You smell kinda good. Well. Not now. Right now you stink."

_Fuck off._

That laugh came again, but it was followed by a loud honk, the blaring of a car horn. Lights shone impossibly brightly, blinding Jim as he lifted his head a fraction to look into them, voices and shouting finding his cotton wool swaddled head as he turned back to Dougie. 

  
_Don't go. Please don't go._  

"I have to. They found you, now. They'll make you safe."

_Is that why you're here?  
_  
"I owed you. Now we're even, yeah?"

_Please don't leave me.  
_  
"I'd love to take you with me, Jim. Honestly.. I would."

_I can't leave him._

"You love him."

_I do. I'm sorry, Dougie._

"You go back to that Captain of yours, and you tell him that if he hurts you, he'll have me to deal with, alright?"

Jim's throat felt tight again, his eyes hot. 

  
_Alright.. I  do love you. I did. I always did. In a way._

"I love you too. Idiot. No homo."

_I can't believe you just said that._

"Bye, bye, Jim."

_I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Dougie._

"You did. A thousand times over, you bloody did, okay?"

_..Okay. So you forgive me?_

"Stubborn git. Don't make me thump you. "

_Fuck, I miss you._

"I know, Jimbo. See you soon, yeah?"

_..See you soon._

Another kiss to his forehead, and then Jim was being lifted up, by rough hands this time, men in rain jackets and calling his name, sirens flashing. The rain beat down, and Jim tried to move his head, to call his friend's name - but the night was dark again, and Dougie was gone. Peacefully, he let himself fall into blackness.

 

-

 

White. 

White again, and Jim was floating, warm and cosy, a different white to the blankness he'd endured in the few moments after the house explosion in Afghanistan. This was a thick white, a comforting white, enveloping him in cotton wool. He lay there for a while, just enjoying the sensation, suspended in it, not thinking about anything or anyone, soft words echoing quietly in his ears, even if he couldn't quite hear them. 

 

After what seemed like a few long, peaceful hours, the silence began to get louder, uncovering a series of beeps and low voices, beginning to register the smell of bleach and the sound of clicking heels on fornica floors. Jim forced his eyes open, his eyelids heavy, the hospital ward dim in the early morning light. He was laying in a bed, connected to a fluid drip, but otherwise swaddled in blankets, and wearing a hospital gown. He shifted a little, turning his head to his right, finding the Captain sat by his bedside, head in his hands.

"..Seb.."

Sebastian looked up sharply, his eyes wide, a relieved smile cracking over his face when he saw Jim, his hands immediately taking one of Jim's own, and squeezing hard. 

"..Hey, you." He said quietly, green eyes tired. His hands were warm, and Jim smiled, the Captain straightening to kiss him lightly on the mouth. "..How are you feeling?"

"A little groggy.." Jim confessed, and then frowned. "..What happened?"

"..We found you by the side of the road, soaked to the skin." Sebastian said gently, and then pursed his lips, forever the formidable Captain. "..What were you thinking?"

"..I fancied a run." Jim said meekly, and looked away, eyes finding the window. He fancied a run in the early hours of the morning. He didn't want to talk about his mother and Albert. Maybe they hadn't been found yet. Maybe the police were already on the way to arrest him. He'd left the gun, after all. His fingerprints were all over it. He swallowed, and glanced back at Sebastian. 

"..I saw Dougie again."

Sebastian nodded, looking concerned for a moment, if a touch amused.  "..That'd be the exhaustion and hypothermia talking, then.."

"It was really him." Jim insisted.  "He was.. really there. He ran with me. He.. sat with me for a while."

"I see."  Sebastian squeezed his fingers. "What did you talk about?"

_He told me I wasn't a terrible person for murdering my mother and Albert._

 

"I told him I was sorry, and that I missed him." Jim smiled a little, closing his eyes as he rested his head back on the pillows. "..And he told me I was a stubborn git, and threatened to thump me."

Sebastian blinked at that, and then laughed quietly. "..That sounds like Dougie."

A nurse walked past, followed by a doctor with a chart, and then a patient being wheeled along in a bed. Jim watched them and listened, Sebastian stroking his thumb over the back of his hand, in a comfortable and sleepy silence for a while. At last, Jim spoke. It was only fair that he told Sebastian. Only a matter of time before the police came for him. 

"..Sebastian." The word was a croak, already an apology in Jim's eyes as he found the Captain's own. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, squeezing his fingers.

"..Yeah?"

  
"I.. did something.. I.."  He took a long breath, resigned. The words were flat, numb. "Last night, I killed my mother and her partner in their home."

 

It sounded much worse said out loud. Like a judge's verdict, or the headline of a newspaper. Oh hell, he could see those damned headlines now. They'd paint him as crazy, and his mother as Princess Diana. He looked away from Sebastian, feeling him let go of his hand, his heart aching at the loss.

Rather unexpectedly, he leaned in and kissed Jim on the cheek. 

"I know." He said simply. 

Jim looked at him for a long few moments, blinking, his expression bemused. What?

"..You.. what?"

 

Sebastian sighed, and reached over, stroking his fingers over Jim's cheek. "..I woke up and you were gone. I panicked a little, because I knew how worked up you were before bed about your mother. I figured there was only one place you'd be."

Jim listened in a shocked silence, leaning into those fingers unconsciously. 

"..I had to contact my highers to find your home address, and they were not happy at being contacted at one in the morning. I had to tell them that it was an emergency." He gave a wry smile, Jim still watching him dumbstruck. "..So I head over to your mother's address, and you already know what I found."

He gave Jim a long look, and he nodded. Two bodies, covered in blood. He found his voice at last, quietly confused. "..So.. what did you do?"

" I cleaned it up."

"..You.. cleaned.."

"Mopped up the blood, put them in bed, put the gun in Albert's hand. He killed her and then himself. At least, that's what I'm guessing they'll go for."

"..B..but fingerprints..-"

"I wore gloves."

"Boot prints-"

"Got rid of the boots this morning."

"It was your gun!"

"Standard issue. Thousands of them about."

The words were simple, and Jim gawped at the Captain, just staring at him for a few long moments. Sebastian just smiled, those green eyes amused. 

"..What?"

"Why.. why would you.. I.. The..-"

"I support what you did." Sebastian said, holding Jim's hands again. "I love you. She was vile and malicious. She was going to hurt thousands of people. Probably indirectly cause their deaths, some of them."

"You're an accomplice to murder!" Jim whispered urgently, looking at the Captain like he was mad. "You- for God's..!"

"I've killed a lot more people than you have, Jim." Sebastian reminded him gently. 

"But not like this!"

"..What's the difference?"

Jim fell silent at that, and then shook his head, resting back exasperatedly in the pillows. 

"You're absolutely crazy." He informed him after a moment, and Sebastian grinned, shrugging.

"..Maybe, medic. So who's next?"

"..I'm sorry?"

Sebastian slid a hand over his own, and squeezed it, his words soft.

 

"...Just because she's gone, doesn't mean her changes won't be put into place. Our government is corrupt."

"..Yes.." Jim agreed dubiously, tilting his head, trying to see what the Captain was getting at. "..I.. You know, that's only.. half the reason I.." He swallowed. "She was baiting me. Saying.. terrible things. Threatening to have me.. committed.."

"Jim, I don't want to go back into the army."

Those bold words put a slight flutter in Jim's chest, relief he realised, that he wouldn't lose Sebastian too. He gave a meek smile, the Captain continuing.

"I've seen enough of it. The whole thing is a bloodbath, and for what? We go, we fight, we die.. Nothing changes. The highers sit in their offices, giving these big orders, never seeing the battlefield. And their highers, the politicians, do exactly the same. They give these orders, they make these decrees.. and for fucking what? It's all.. bureaucracy and money. They don't really give a fuck about us."

He shook his head, angry. "Maybe we can't bring them back from war. Not  _yet_.. But.. hell, don't you want to protect Oscar and Devo when they go back out there? Make sure they keep getting their letters and leave-"

"That's why I went, last night.. I.." Jim said slowly, and frowned. "She.. I tried to reason with her.."

"You can't reason with them. You can't. And I won't stand by and let our friends die, or suffer. Not more of them."

Jim held that determined gaze for a long few moments, and then nodded, steely resolve settling in his chest. "..Okay."

"Okay?"

Jim gave a tentative smile, and pushed himself to sit up properly in his hospital bed. Anticipation fluttered in his stomach, nerves beginning to jangle in his chest. He felt.. almost as if they were on the precipice of something. 

"Okay. Let's fight the system."

Sebastian smiled, a slow smile that soon became wide and determined.  "I'll do whatever you need me to do."

"We could even do this for money." Jim pointed out, bringing his knees to his chest a little, speaking conspiratorially from his hospital bed, words hushed.

"..What do you mean?"

"Well no offence, but my fifteen grand deployment fee isn't going to last forever. Neither is yours."

"I get a little more than-"

"Regardless - if we start doing this, they'll catch on eventually. We'll be wanted men, Sebastian. Like, top of Scotland Yard's wanted list. Serious crime. Serious murders.. We're talking.. high politicians, here.."

"..I see what you mean."

Jim smiled, squeezing the Captain's hands. "..There's an opposition, though. There always is, to war. I bet they'll pay big money.."

"Hell, I bet they will." Sebastian agreed, those green eyes alight with determination. Jim laughed quietly, in disbelief.

"..Are we really thinking about doing this? About.. taking out the.."  He dropped his voice to a whisper. "..The Government?  ..Together?"

"How else would we do it?" Sebastian asked, a touch more softly. He leaned in, slid a hand to Jim's cheek and then kissed him, warm and gentle, Jim's heart turning over in his chest. He took a shaky breath afterwards.

"..Oh.. oh, by the way.. Dougie ..says that if you hurt me, he's going to.. get you.."

Sebastian laughed quietly, pressing their foreheads together. "Duly noted." He agreed gently.

"..Do you think he'd be proud of this?" Jim asked a touch guiltily, running his fingers down Sebastian's chest, head already full of Government cabinets, likely targets for war and defence, the leaders that they'd need to take out. 

"..Are you joking? Dougie lived for breaking the rules."  Sebastian murmured, and then stood, Jim carefully pulling that drip from his hand, and climbing from the hospital bed, hunting around for his clothes.  When he was dressed, tossing down that gown, Sebastian took his hand as they began to walk from the hospital, both looking around for doctors and nurses, hoping that they wouldn't be spotted. He felt fine. He'd overdone it with the running.. and in the rain.. but he was fine.

 

He had something to live for again. Something besides Sebastian. A purpose, and a goal.

 

As they headed down the hospital corridors, he almost felt like their comrades were walking beside them. Dougie. James II. Skeets. Betsy. Greg. Ali. Max. Oscar. Jakey. Devo. This would all be for them. And for the futures of men like them. 

They reached the front steps,  the weather still icy and Sebastian turned, holding out his car key and pressing a button. A car unlocked itself nearby, and they walked over together, pacing determinedly, Sebastian stopping by the boot, and opening it - to Jim's surprise, revealing an impressive array of guns, big and small, with a poppy and a set of medals pinned to the interior fabric. 

"My God.." Jim laughed quietly, arching an eyebrow, and Sebastian smiled, bending down and retrieving a list of names. Parliament names. Addresses. 

"I was hoping you'd say yes.." He admitted, and Jim nodded, feeling a little nervous, but determined with it. He wanted to make the war better for the men already there. End their suffering. And maybe.. maybe one day, they could end the war altogether. He had his mother's contacts. He had the determination.

He couldn't quite imagine it. A world in which men didn't sacrifice their lives at the order of a government or politician. A world in which his friends didn't hurt, and his chest didn't ache with loss. And hell, he wanted it badly.. 

"I'd blow up N.A.T.O to bring them back." He mused quietly, and Sebastian nodded, closing the boot. He didn't need to ask who he was talking about.

"I'd do anything." He agreed softly, numbly. "They were under my protection."

"..How long have you wanted to do this?" Jim asked, gesturing to the boot, laying a hand on the back of the car. Sebastian stood close, and kissed his hair. 

"..Since my very first tour."

The answer was  quietly honest, and Jim nodded, taking a long breath and then turning, sliding his arms around Sebastian's middle. The Captain hugged him in return, and when he finally spoke again, it was with that same low determination. Jim felt it too, thrumming through his veins, replacing every bit of guilt or upset he felt over murdering his mother. It was necessary. It was time. 

They'd spent enough time fighting the world. They'd lost enough. They'd had enough stolen from them. 

It was time to fight the system. And this time, Jim wouldn't be frightened.

Sebastian walked around to the driver's side door, and climbed inside. Jim joined him in the passenger seat, taking a deep breath. The Captain turned to him, starting the engine. 

"So. Are we ready?"

"Yes Cap-tain." Jim replied, clicking on his seatbelt. His answer earned him a wry smile.

"Who next, medic?"

"I think...Martin Reighy."

"Good choice."

 

 

-

 


End file.
